


So Tyrannous and Rough in Proof

by nubianamy



Series: There All the Honour Lies [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Closeted Character, Coming Out, First Time, Fuckurt Big Bang, High School, Hoarding, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Reading Aloud, Recreational Drug Use, References to Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet References, Season/Series 02, Secret Relationship, Shakespeare Quotations, Teen Angst, Theatre, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 94,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7514272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noah Puckerman is not only Kurt's secret boyfriend, but he's also an accomplished actor. When Kurt transfers to Dalton to avoid homophobic bullying, he has to decide if their relationship is worth the secrets he’s been asked to keep.  (tl;dr: Love is complicated and messy.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to [Those Magic Changes My Love Arranges](http://archiveofourown.org/works/593929), and picks up where that story left off, but can be read independently. It is Puckurt with brotherly Furt.
> 
> This story, like its predecessor, attempts to maintain all canon elements while telling the story of Kurt and Noah’s relationship behind the scenes. There is a lot of sex, however, and it’s all mixed up with theater references and music. This is not a particularly Blaine-friendly story, but I’ve tried to keep him in character too. There is occasional quoting from Glee episodes along the way (most of season 2); these instances are noted. 
> 
> You can listen to [the soundtrack on 8Tracks](http://8tracks.com/nubianamy/so-tyrannous-and-rough-in-proof), which includes the nine highlighted songs from the end of each chapter, but there are also Youtube references to all songs and plays along the way. 
> 
> Thanks to knittycat99 for beta reading.
> 
> Enjoy! -amy

_Benvolio:_

_Alas that love, so gentle in his view  
_ _Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!_

_Romeo:_

_Alas that love, whose view is muffled still,  
_ _Should without eyes see pathways to his love!_

\- William Shakespeare, _Romeo and Juliet,_ Act I, Scene 1

Noah pulled his truck into Kurt’s driveway and put on the parking brake. He took a deep breath and cracked his neck. Then he turned to Kurt, smiling. It wasn’t like they hadn’t both been smiling for most of the ride home, Noah holding Kurt’s hand across the bench seat, but seeing that smile trained on him now, with nothing else to distract Noah from giving him his full attention, made Kurt feel a little dizzy.

“Wanna make out?” Noah asked, his voice like velvet.

“Uh,” said Kurt, and laughed. “I should probably… um.” He scratched his neck, glancing at the house. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

It was a little hard to believe what had happened to them that evening. It almost didn’t matter anymore that two and a half years of waiting for Noah to kiss him had ended abruptly in Dave Karofsky stealing that kiss from him in the boys’ locker room. Leaning in to meet Noah’s lips, he felt Noah’s hand carding through his hair, and his breath quickened.

Noah made a low noise in his throat. “God… Kurt.” His fingertips trailed up the back of Kurt’s neck, then moved around to the front to trace the lines of his throat. “You turn me on so fucking much.”

“Yeah.” The words were brilliant, but more than words, Kurt didn’t want Noah to stop kissing him. He released the catch on his seatbelt and slid toward Noah to allow the kiss to deepen, and heard Noah groan again.

“I don’t,“ Noah mumbled into his mouth, “I mean, you know… it’s not just about getting off.”

Kurt knew. They’d spent the entire summer doing that over the phone while Noah had been at theater camp, and even then, it hadn’t just been about that. He rested a hand on Noah’s chest.

“But I don’t have to just imagine you now,” he said. “I can feel you. You’re right here. All the things I want to do…” Kurt paused, glancing down at Noah’s lap, obscured in shadow.

Noah captured Kurt’s hand in his and brought it down to rest on his thigh. “Maybe not all of them, not in the car.”

Kurt felt his face heat even as he splayed his fingers across Noah’s well-defined quad, and let out a shaky laugh. “Maybe not. And we, um. We already did some of them earlier.”

He could feel echoes of Noah’s touch, stroking him to a quick and messy climax in Aaron Puckerman’s dusty Dayton Opera House office. It hadn’t been the most romantic setting for their first encounter, but even in retrospect, Kurt couldn’t feel bad about how it had gone.

“I could do them again right now,” Noah whispered.

“Me too,” Kurt whispered back. “I wish I could — can I —“ He edged one finger closer to the crease of Noah’s pants, and thought he could feel an answering movement, just a twitch. He tried to calm his racing heart. “It’s dark. I can’t really see…”

“You seriously need to see to jerk me off?” Noah sounded amused, but he didn’t make a move to help Kurt find his way.

“I _want_ to see,” Kurt explained.

Noah rolled his hips under Kurt’s hand.  “I’m thinking your neighbors probably don’t, though. We gotta keep the lights off. Unless you’d rather bring me inside.”

“I — think my dad might not like that so much.” He bit his lip, then slid the flat of his hand against Noah’s zipper. The heat and pressure felt familiar, even though he’d only felt that part of Noah once before. When he pushed, Noah grunted, thrusting back with his hips. He did indeed feel like he was ready to do everything again. “Not until I talk with him about… how things are now.”

He didn’t move his fingers away. It was a powerful feeling to hold Noah in his hand like that, where he was most fragile, most vulnerable. Noah nudged his hips forward again restlessly.

“Well, maybe you should go inside and do that.”

“I don’t know if I could exactly concentrate,” Kurt admitted. Noah’s grin made him blush. Then he squeaked as Noah placed a hand on Kurt’s thigh.

“Any requests about how I could take care of that for you?”

Kurt’s mind was already teeming with previously imagined fantasies, but none of them involved being in a crowded truck. “I think I might be too nervous to do that in my own driveway.”

“Hey, I’m not gonna push you.” But Noah moved his thumb to brush against Kurt’s own zipper, humming in satisfaction when he felt the bulge there. “But I know for a fact you’ve done this sitting in the parking lot at school more than once. And if you go inside, I’m totally gonna sit here and jack off in your driveway anyway. You might as well be here for it.”

“Oh, that’s not pushing me?” Kurt snapped. He struggled to keep himself still, and blew out a breath as Noah pulsed again under his hand. “ _Your_ windows aren’t tinted, Noah. Maybe being in a compromising situation is a turn-on for you, but —“

“Hey, hey.” Noah was as patient as anything as he undid Kurt’s pants, stroking the skin of his stomach with slow fingers. “You want me to help you calm down? I can do that.”

He pushed up onto one knee on the bench, letting his mouth brush against Kurt’s neck as he leaned over him. Now Kurt’s hand was cupping Noah from beneath, and Noah was slowly thrusting into his loose grip.

“Noah,” Kurt protested. He couldn’t hold back a gasp as Noah slid his hand into Kurt’s underwear. “What are you —?”

“O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful / In the contempt and anger of his lip!” Noah whispered into his ear.

Kurt’s breath came out all at once in a whine, prompting a chuckle from Noah. After discovering his talent and appreciation for theater, Kurt had spent hours listening to Noah recite Shakespeare to him. The first time had been over two years ago, and even now, it was a thrill to hear him do it.

As Noah went on with the soliloquy, he took Kurt into his hand and stroked him with a gentle, focused rhythm. It was not unlike the way Noah looked at him across the room when no one else was watching: with an intensity that made him tremble. Even as the tension in his gut increased, Kurt could feel the muscles of his neck and shoulders begin to loosen.

“A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon,” said Noah,

“Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.

Cesario, by the roses of the spring,

By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing…”

He paused, then added in his normal voice, “I guess _manhood,_ but Olivia’s a girl, so that’s what you get.”

“I — I’ll take it,” said Kurt. He was starting to thrust into Noah’s waiting hand, getting used to the feeling of someone else being in control of his pleasure. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all, but it was a little frustrating not to be able to explain exactly what he wanted. Not to mention there were things he wanted that would be really hard to do given their current situation. He struggled with one hand on Noah’s zipper before Noah took pity on him and undid it himself with one quick movement.

“… Truth, and every thing,” Noah continued. He paused to take a ragged breath as Kurt’s hand found its way into his pants. “Oh, fuck. Kurt. I love thee so that, maugre all thy pride — _fuck,_ yeah, like that — nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.” He let out a moan. “I don’t want to mess up your clothes, and this is gonna be quick. Towel in the glove box.”

Kurt’s free hand wasn’t anywhere near the glove box, and he was not about to stop what he was doing to Noah with his other hand. Touching him was more exciting than he would have imagined. He fumbled a hand between them, pulling his shirt up to reveal his bare stomach and chest. “Don’t worry about my clothes, just — right here, on — on me.”

Noah swept his eyes over the pristine surface Kurt was offering and made a very appealing whimpering noise. “You’re serious?”

“I am so serious,” Kurt promised. He arched his back, trying to keep the movement of his hand on Noah regular and even. It wasn’t easy, given the feelings Noah was prompting in him by leaning over him that way. “Please.”

Noah’s own hand on Kurt stuttered to an abrupt halt. In the lamplight from the porch, Kurt could see Noah’s eyes flutter closed as he leaned forward, his mouth seeking Kurt’s. Kurt welcomed his savage kiss and the desperate sounds he was making into Kurt’s mouth, but it was the sudden pulsing moisture covering his belly that was most inspiring. It took a while before Noah relaxed with a sigh.

“Fuck, babe.” Noah gathered Kurt up as best as he could across the seat, holding him tightly in his arms.  “That was so — “

He fell silent. Kurt could feel him shaking. With one hand, Kurt reached up and touched Noah’s face, and his fingers came away wet.

“No more words?” Kurt said, trying to keep his tone light.

Noah slowly uncurled from Kurt’s body, sniffing. “Uh… I guess Olivia has two more couplets.”

“I said I’d take it.” He used the cuff of his shirt to dab at Noah’s cheeks, making him smile. “Come on. Let me hear them.”

Noah reached for the glove box, letting it fall open to reveal the aforementioned towel. Kurt glanced over, and his thought processes ground to a halt as he saw a bottle of what looked like hand lotion and a very large, very realistic sex toy. Noah grabbed the towel and the lotion and shoved the door to the glove box shut.

“That was the one I told you about,” he muttered. He sounded mortified.

“It’s fine. Noah, it’s —“ He struggled to sit up, but Noah shook his head, pushing him back down onto the bench.

“Four more lines,” he said. He traced the edge of Kurt’s erection with his fingers. “And you’re not done yet.”

Kurt tried not to panic as Noah tugged his pants down, reminding himself that his dad was almost certainly asleep, and no one else was likely to walk by his house at midnight and peek into Noah’s dark truck. There was the sound of lotion squirting out of a bottle. Then he felt Noah’s breath on his thigh, and he choked on a loud moan as Noah wrapped his hand around him.

“Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,” he said, stroking Kurt with wet fingers. It felt eight million times better than when he did it himself. _Fucking his hand,_ as Noah had taught him to do, had become one of his favorite things, and yet feeling Noah do it for him was so much more meaningful than that.

Then he felt the fingers of Noah’s other hand resting between his cheeks, not pressing, but rubbing a little, quivering. Kurt spread his legs wide enough to give him better access, his face hot and his head dizzy.

“You don’t have to—“ he started.

“Shh, I’ve got three lines left. For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause…”

Noah pulled his fingers away, and Kurt whined, wanting them back with sudden urgency. The pace of the stroking slowed, and that was even more maddening. He thrust into Noah’s hand, wanting _something._ Not just something, wanting Noah, inside him — really anything he could find, even that enormous scary sex toy — but especially wanting to be _filled_ with something of Noah’s.

“Please,” he begged.

He was familiar with the sensation of fingers inside him, and Noah’s were in theory not much different from his own. But there was definitely something significant in the way it felt to have Noah slide them into him, pressing firmly. He felt the sensation escalate, spiral upward, and burst out of him with a cry.

“Yeah,” said Noah, sounding pleased. He gripped Kurt firmly and stroked him fast, and within thirty seconds, Kurt was coming.

The towel was there to protect his shirt — which was good, because Noah’s fingers inside him were causing him to make a much bigger mess than he expected, especially considering he’d come just two hours earlier in Dayton. Noah continued to thrust into him for several seconds, and it just kept _leaking_ out of him, until finally Kurt brought a hand down to rest on Noah’s wrist.

He stared up at the ceiling of Noah’s truck. “Oh, my god.”

“Yeah,” agreed Noah. He knelt over him and kissed him. “That was super hot, Kurt. If I hadn’t come five minutes ago, I’d be ready to go again.”

He calmed his breathing, and laughed shakily. “Lucky for me, then.”

Noah helped him sit up when he was ready, and passed him the towel to wipe off once more before tucking himself into his pants (which, after this, were _definitely_ going to the dry cleaners). Then he folded himself into Noah’s arms, resting his head on Noah’s shoulder, and wondered what he should say.

“I love you,” he said at last, and heard Noah’s breath catch before it continued again.

Noah turned his head and kissed Kurt’s temple. “Love you too, babe.”

Somehow he made it out of the truck and into the house on shaky legs. He was standing in the foyer, typing out a text to Noah, when the hallway lights came on. His dad was standing at the top of the staircase.

“It’s awfully late, Kurt,” his dad said, sounding more tired than upset.

“I know, dad.” He pushed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, smiling. There was no sense in trying to look more put-together than he was. His dad’s eyes narrowed.

“I thought you told me this thing with Blaine wasn’t a date.”

“No.” He laughed, taking a step forward. “No, it’s… it wasn’t. Noah brought me home from Dayton. He was there, and we… talked. We made up.”

His dad’s eyes had risen to the middle of his forehead. “You made something, that’s for sure.”

_“Dad!”_

“Kurt, you’ve been sitting out there in the driveway for forty-five minutes. You don’t think I don’t know what that means?” He took a few steps down the staircase and looked hard at Kurt. “You guys being safe?”

“Oh my god, dad, we’re not — there’s nothing we’re doing that would necessitate that. Okay?” It wasn’t exactly true, but for now, it was close enough, and it was _definitely_ as close as he was going to get with his dad.

“Okay,” his dad said. He rubbed his forehead. “Do I need to have a talk with Noah?”

_“No._ He’s being a gentleman.” Kurt paused, then added, “Would you still rather he wasn’t in the house? Or is it okay for him to come over again now?”

His dad gave him a dubious look. “You guys can do anything here that wouldn’t necessitate closing the door.”

That wasn’t much of an answer, but Kurt nodded anyway. They could talk semantics in the morning. He turned to head downstairs.

“Kurt.”

He glanced up at his dad, wondering if he was going to get reprimanded after all. But his dad was smiling, maybe a little sadly.

“I don’t have to ask you if you’re happy,” he said. “But if something goes wrong, you call me first, okay?”

“I promise,” said Kurt. He felt a little stab of unease that his dad was so sure _something_ might go wrong with Noah, when he’d barely blinked an eye when Blaine drove him to Dayton just ten hours earlier. “I trust him.”

His dad nodded. “Okay. Get some sleep now. You can fill me in tomorrow.”

Kurt felt some mildly uncomfortable sensations inside as he made his way down the stairs to his basement room, but he decided they had been entirely worth it. Finn was snoring softly in his bed, and Kurt made it to the bathroom without disturbing him.

_All’s well,_ he texted Noah.

_Glad to hear it._ Then, a moment later, _I still owe you a couplet._

He didn’t understand what Noah meant until the next text came through, strung together the way lyrics should be. Kurt felt the smile break onto his face, accompanied by a flush of heat to his cheeks.

_But rather reason thus with reason fetter / Love sought is good, but given unsought better._

Noah called him early on Saturday. Kurt was already mostly awake, but he glanced hesitantly over at Finn, who was still sleeping in the bed next to him. Eventually, he picked up.

“Finn’s still asleep,” he said quietly. “And I’m not really up yet. I should go upstairs.”

_“It’s not like he doesn’t know about us,”_ Noah said. Kurt chewed his lip.

“You really want me to tell him we’re — doing stuff?”

_“He probably heard us_ **_doing stuff_ ** _through the door of your bathroom for months this summer.”_

Noah had a point. Finn had already told him he’d been aware of the things Kurt had been doing with his then-mystery man. Kurt had told him weeks ago who it was, and so far, Finn hadn’t been anything but quietly supportive.

“You could just come over and make out with me on my bed?” he murmured. “I bet that would do it.”

Noah cracked up. “ _That is totally happening. I’m gonna save it for when I need to get back at him for something.”_ Kurt could hear him still smiling as he trailed off. “ _So, your dad’s okay with me coming over?”_

Kurt slid out of bed and padded across the floor to retrieve his robe before heading up the stairs. “He might decide to give you the third degree, but he said it was okay. I told him I trusted you.”

_“So that’s a “don’t screw up” warning.”_

“You’ve screwed up before, and we’re doing all right.” But it was hard to smile about it. “Don’t worry too much about what my dad thinks, okay?”

_“I always thought he kind of liked me.”_

“Well, that was before you were — “ He paused, meeting Carole’s gaze in the doorway to the kitchen. She let Kurt go around her and glanced away, not interrupting his conversation, but he could tell she was curious. Kurt took a deep breath and let it out. “Before you were dating me.”

Carole’s mouth went round. _Is that Noah?_ she mouthed, and when he nodded, she clasped her hands in front of her in a victory sign. He couldn’t help giggling.

_“Dating you. Yeah, I guess… I guess I’m doing that, huh?”_ Puck sounded uneasy. _“Well, he pretty much knows what he’s dealing with. I’m the guy who went to juvie and broke his son’s heart six different ways.”_

“I recovered.” Kurt opened the cupboard and got out the coffee. “He’s not the one dating you, anyway. It’s my decision. And now you’re out of juvie, and things are going to be better. Just… come over.”

Carole was waiting with bated breath, and pounced on him with a hug as soon as he hung up. “Kurt! What happened with Noah? Weren’t you going out with that new boy from Dalton?”

“Blaine…. yeah, no.” Kurt gave her a brief summary about their night at the opera house, minus the graphic details. Her reaction was pleased and a little sentimental.

“This is a big step for Noah,” she said. “For both of you, really. Who already knows?”

“Knows about what?” asked Finn, stepping around Kurt to open the fridge. Carole hesitated, looking back and forth between the two of them.

Kurt cleared his throat. “About me and… and Puck.” The name always tasted funny on his tongue, but it was the name Finn used for him. Noah had preferred it ever since he’d played that role in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ at theater camp the summer before sophomore year. _Maybe I should be calling him that,_ he thought.

“Did something happen? Last I heard, you guys were fighting.”

“Not anymore.” He watched Carole withdraw from the kitchen, making a shooing motion with her hands. Her meaning was clear: _talk to him._ Kurt leaned in a little closer to Finn, feeling suddenly anxious. “We, um. Things did happen.”

“Things. Oh — _things.”_ Finn suddenly got it, and put down the orange juice, staring at Kurt. “Good things?”

“I think so,” he said. “I mean… they were good when they happened. I’m not sure how good it is in the long run. I’m trying to stay positive.” Looking at everything from the perspective of the morning after, surrounded by his family, he didn’t feel as certain.

“Well, that’s good, I guess?” Finn seemed restless. He spilled a little juice and stopped to clean it up.

“I wasn’t sure if this would be weird for you. If… if Noah and I, if we’re… you know, together. At the house.”

“It’s your house,” Finn muttered, his eyes on the dish towel. “You can do what you want.”

“Well, it’s your house too.” Kurt watched him unhappily, the way Finn was avoiding his eyes. “It _is_ going to be weird, isn’t it?”

“No! No. It’s fine.” Finn looked up, made himself stop, and smiled. “I’m happy for you guys. It’s not like I didn’t already know, right?”

“No, but…” He smiled back. “Okay. Just, you can talk to me. All right? He’s your friend too.”

“Sure, yeah. I’m, uh, going over to — to Quinn’s after breakfast.” He made a little vague gesture at the door.

Breakfast was somewhat uncomfortable, especially when Noah showed up in the middle of it. Carole was the only one smiling as he shrugged out of his jacket and took a seat at the table next to Kurt.

“How was RENT?” she asked. “Kurt mentioned you were there, too.”

“Yep, I still have connections for tickets, no matter how much of a douchebag my dad is,” he agreed. “Can I say _douchebag_ here without getting in trouble?”

Carole smothered a smile. “I think you can do most things here without getting in trouble, Puck.”

“Oh.” He looked at her, then at Kurt. Then, very deliberately, he picked up Kurt’s hand and interlaced their fingers. Carole’s smile grew, and she nodded. Finn stared at their hands for about five seconds before looking away and continuing to eat his bowl of corn flakes.

They sat like that, holding hands, Kurt’s face red as a beet, talking about RENT until his dad walked into the room, at which point Noah sat back and casually dropped Kurt’s hand. Carole frowned, but didn’t comment.

“Good morning,” said his dad.

They all mumbled a reply. His dad glanced at Noah and let out a little grunt, but didn’t make any further comment until he was seated across from him with a cup of coffee.

“So…” He fixed Noah with an expectant look. “I hear things have changed around here?”

“Not actually all that much,” said Kurt, but his dad ignored him, keeping his eyes on Noah.

“Here’s my question.” He leaned forward. “Is this gonna be one of those things where it’s a big secret? Like, do I need to worry about who I’m telling? Keeping my mouth shut around certain people?”

“Dad,” Kurt protested. His dad waved him silent and went on.

“Because I don’t think this should be something Kurt has to be quiet about. He’s my son. There’s nothing shameful about who he loves.” He raised an eyebrow at Noah, who looked a little stunned. “Do I make myself clear?”

“It’s not really your decision, though,” said Finn. “Is it? It’s theirs.”

They all stopped what they were doing and looked at Finn, even Carole. He wore the same determined face he’d had on while wearing the red Lady Gaga shower curtain outfit.

“I don’t have any problem with you guys being together,” said Finn to Kurt. “I’m just saying, I think you get to decide who you want to tell, and when.”

His dad coughed. “Is that how you feel, Kurt?”

Being put on the spot in front of Noah wasn’t exactly what Kurt had been hoping for, but he moved his chair a little closer toward Noah’s and brushed his arm with his hand. “I agree it’s up to us. We’re still figuring it out, and I’d appreciate… a little space to do that, without being antagonized.” He glared at his dad, who had the courtesy to look embarrassed. “At the very least, I’d hope that _my home_ would be a safe place for us to be… whatever we are.”

“Amen,” said Carole firmly. She held up her orange juice in a toast. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re welcome here, no matter what.”

His dad obviously hadn’t counted on being outnumbered. He ignored everyone for the rest of the morning, until Kurt and Noah both stood up and headed into the hallway.

“Bedroom door stays open, guys,” his dad called. Kurt could hear Carole whisper-arguing with him, and his dad saying, “I’m just saying…”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said in a low voice. Noah shrugged, holding his jacket.

“Better than it would have been at my house. Trust me, you don’t want to come over for a while.”

“We can still go downstairs.” Kurt bit his lip, not wanting to look too desperate.

Noah shook his head. “But your dad was right, you know? You need people on your side.”

Kurt stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I know you, Kurt.” Noah said.“Better than anybody does.  If you don’t talk to somebody, you’re going to freak out. And I seriously don’t think Blaine wants to hear any more about me than you’ve already told him. So tell your girlfriends about me. Make them promise not to say anything, and you’ll know if they do because they’re the only ones who know.” He slid his arms into his jacket, then put both hands on Kurt’s shoulders before leaning in to give him a quick kiss and a reassuring smile. Then he headed down the steps toward his truck.

Kurt watched him go from the doorway, wrestling with conflicting urges to call after him or to start a fight with his dad. In the end, he went back downstairs to be alone. Maybe a little space from everyone was what he needed after all.

“So how was your date with Blaine on Friday night?” Mercedes asked, her teasing tone tempered by her smile.  “I know you loved RENT, but... did you have a good time _afterwards?”_

_It wasn’t a date,_ Kurt was about to say. Then he ran his hand over the bracelet on his right wrist and stared up at the ceiling, the events from the previous night stampeding through his head. He took a deep breath, and then another one, before saying, “You girls have to promise not to tell anybody this. _Anybody._ ”

The low-level chatter in the room ground to an abrupt halt as two pairs of eyes were instantly fixed on him.  Mercedes glanced at Tina and set down her nail polish.

“I’m serious,” he insisted.

“We promise.”  Tina nodded at Mercedes, who nodded back. “What is it, Kurt?”

He closed his eyes on the onslaught that was sure to come. “I kissed Noah Puckerman.”

There was a brief silence.  “Repeat that,” Tina demanded.

“I -- don’t know if I can.”  Kurt ground the palms of his hands into his eye sockets, destroying any hope of avoiding broken blood vessels in his eyes.  He’d have to resort to Visine in the morning to repair them.

Mercedes put a hand on his arm.  “Was it a dare?”  She sighed. “It wasn’t, was it?”

“No.  And actually, _he_ kissed _me_.”  He opened his eyes and angled his head to face them, resigned.  “We did... a lot more than that.”

Twin shrieks made him wince, but he allowed himself to be hauled to a sitting position as they demanded details and clarification.  

“Okay, all right!” he protested, cringing under their onslaught. _Whoever originally said girls were the fairer sex must have been smoking something. Noah would probably know that quote, actually._  He shook his head, grinning despite himself.  “At RENT.  In Noah’s dad’s office. And, um… again, in his truck. Trust me, it was entirely mutual.”

“Puck?” Tina said with awe.  “I never... I mean _never_ would have guessed he’d be into guys _._  He’s a _dad.”_

Kurt knew exactly how drunk Noah had been that night he’d had sex with Quinn, and why he’d done it. But he’d promised he wouldn’t mention Chris, the boy Noah had dated on and off for years at theater camp.  

“People can like guys and girls. Right, Kurt?” Mercedes was watching him with concern. “Puck isn’t exactly who I would have picked for you to be your first boyfriend, though. He’s kind of a jerk.”

“I know,” Kurt said. “And I don’t know if you could say he’s my boyfriend. But we’ve been friends for years, outside of school. I know what kind of person he can be, when he’s not worrying about what other people think.”

Mercedes laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think he’s gonna stop doing that any time soon. I suppose he does have great arms.”

“Was it a good kiss?” Tina asked hopefully.

Kurt swallowed. “The best. But he came over to my house this morning and my dad was pretty hard on him. He doesn’t want me to have to be closeted just because Noah…” He trailed off.

“To be honest, I was hoping this thing with Blaine was going to turn into something special.” Mercedes picked up her nail polish. “He’s a real cutie, and he totally likes you.”

Listening to the girls chatter about Blaine was wholly unsatisfying. It was clear they didn’t actually want to hear details about him and Noah.  Maybe it _was_ a little weird, but he wished they would be happier for him.

_I don’t want Blaine,_ he thought, staring unhappily down at his neat cuticles. _I want Noah. More than I probably should._

He got a text from Blaine on the way home from Mercedes’ house that night. _Thanks again for coming with me to Dayton,_ he said. _I enjoyed being there with you. We should go again sometime._

Kurt had to smile at Blaine’s gentlemanly tone. _It was fun,_ he agreed.

_Did you and Noah get a chance to talk in the car on the way home?_

He hesitated before replying, _We did a lot more than talk._

There was a long pause. _Be careful, Kurt. It’s dangerous to get mixed up with boys like that._

“Boys like _what?”_ he muttered. _I’ve known Noah for a long time,_ he told Blaine. _I know what he’s capable of._

_I just don’t want anyone to take advantage of you._

Now he had to laugh. _Thank you for your concern._

Even if Noah did apparently have a tendency to finish first, he had been very attentive, both times. The memories of their encounter were very stimulating. He wondered if it would be appropriate for him to call Noah and see if he was busy.

But Noah didn’t pick up when Kurt called. After what he’d said about the current climate at their house, he decided calling their house phone wasn’t going to be the best plan.

He paused outside the family room, looking in at his father sitting in front of the television. “Did Noah call?” he asked, as casually as he could.

“He wouldn’t call here,” said his dad. “He’d call your phone. If he wanted.”

That was true, and Kurt regretted asking. The last thing he wanted his dad to think was that he was desperate for attention from Noah.

_I’m not,_ he thought stubbornly, heading downstairs to do his homework. _I have my life, and he has his, and… they don’t have to match up all the time. They don’t._

It took him a long time to fall asleep Sunday night. It wasn’t like he was entirely alone in this. He could have cornered Finn that weekend, could have told him as much as Finn was willing to handle hearing. And Kurt _wanted_ to talk to him. He wanted to talk to _everybody,_ but after years of waiting for this moment, of watching Noah take steps forward and back, Kurt knew better than to trust that everything would be easy.

So he wasn’t exactly surprised when, on Monday at school, Noah avoided Kurt all morning. There were no texts or secret smiles in the hallway. The minute Kurt managed to catch him alone in an empty corridor, he muttered something about _after Glee_ and vanished again. The only thing that kept Kurt from snapping was rereading all the texts on his phone from Friday and Saturday.  

He sighed. _This is just Noah, freaking out. It isn’t the end of the world._

Just before lunch, however, as Kurt watched Noah high-five Ms. Holliday in the hallway with his face lit up in a perfectly ordinary smile, he decided there’d been enough waiting.  He abandoned the idea of eating lunch -- the cafeteria had pulled all the food with actual calories, anyway, per Principal Sue’s request -- and typed out a text with a determined finger.   _My car, now._

Noah’s response was almost immediate. _What, am I in trouble or something?_

Kurt didn’t even bother to answer.  He just opened the side door and climbed into the third row of seats, moistening his lips and checking his hair.  His glare was turned up full force when Noah appeared at the door two minutes later.

“I thought I’d have to spend lunchtime cramming for the Spanish quiz,” Noah said, eyeing Kurt’s expression, “considering how much sleep I got last night. But then Ms. Holliday gave me the quiz answers, so... I’m free.” He licked his lips. “How about you?”

Kurt was already having trouble breathing, but he beckoned Noah into the car, the door sliding closed behind him.  Noah made his way into the back, but instead of taking a seat beside Kurt, he climbed right on top of him, his knees pressing into the upholstery as he straddled Kurt’s thighs. Kurt abruptly found himself splayed against the rear bench, feeling his advantage slipping away as Noah smiled at him.  

“Why -- the sleep problem?” Kurt wondered shakily. “I thought orgasms were conducive to _better_ sleep.”

“Yeah,” Noah agreed, “except for the part where this guy I’m in love with finally let me kiss him, and I’m pretty much only thinking about that.”

“Oh --” said Kurt, and let Noah demonstrate, not even considering asking him to keep his hands out of his hair.  Noah was going to touch him exactly the way he wanted to, and Kurt just wasn’t going to bother worrying about things he couldn’t control.   _At least, not when the ways he could control them were so satisfying._

“God, babe, your fucking mouth,” Noah groaned between kisses. “I can’t tell you how many dreams I’ve had about exactly what you could do with that mouth.”

The possibilities made his vision grey out a little. “You’re not the only one,” he gasped.  But this wasn’t the way this was supposed to go.  Kurt put two hands on Noah’s chest and gave him a little push until he stopped and focused on his face. “Look... I understood not to expect you to come back to school today and walk down the hall holding hands with me.  But before I... put out, would you explain to me why I deserve the silent treatment, please?”

Noah watched him warily.  “... Before?  Not ‘if I’m gonna?’ ”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Noah.  I’m not going to throw a diva fit and refuse to make out with you because you’re scared of being out at school. I think that ship sailed last summer.  Okay, maybe a few times since then.” He offered an encouraging smile, and Noah relaxed a fraction. “Would you please just tell me what was going through your head when you ignored me in the hallway today?”

He sighed. “You really want to know?”

“I really do,” Kurt promised.  He reached out and took Noah’s hand.  Noah looked at it, as though he were startled to see Kurt’s in his. 

“Well...”  Noah gazed through the window at the school.  “Sunday morning, while trying to navigate around the mountains of crap in my house so I could get breakfast together for me and Sarah, I got to listen to my Ma’s most recent argument about why my dad should never see me or Sarah again.  It was a great way to start the day, let me tell you, being reminded how much one of your parents hates the other. As I was heading out the door, my Ma turned to me and said, ‘I hope you never have children, Noah.’”

“Oh,” whispered Kurt, “oh, Noah...”

“Wait, it gets better.  Never mind I already have a kid, right?  So I just shrugged and said, ‘Good thing I’m gay, then,’ and she just --”

“You -- Noah!”  Kurt clutched at his hand, his eyes wide.  Noah’s grimace forestalled any further comments.  

“I’ve always been about as subtle as she is.  So I got to stand there and listen to all her thoughts about _that_ for about fifteen minutes, and all I could think was, _my dad might be a rotten father and a junkie, but at least he didn’t treat me like shit when he walked in on me with another guy._ ” He scowled at the floor mats. “I swear, Kurt, the minute I turn eighteen I am out of there.  I’m not ever looking back.”

Kurt couldn’t stand it any longer. He launched himself at Noah, hugging him tight, and after a tense moment, felt Noah relax and hug back.  

“I am so proud of you,” Kurt choked. Noah shook his head, brushing the soft texture of his hair against Kurt’s cheek.

“What the fuck,” he said fondly. “Aren’t you supposed to be mad at me?”

“No.”  Kurt sat back, looking into Noah’s face, solemn and matter-of-fact. “I’m supposed to be listening to my boyfriend.”

“... Oh.”  The startled smile that spread over Noah’s face was second only to the blush on his cheeks.  “Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah?”  Kurt tried not to sound so tentative, but no matter what had happened in the hallway, there wasn’t any reason to pretend he wasn’t hungry to hear Noah say _yes, I want to be your boyfriend._

Noah glanced away, then back at Kurt.

“Yeah,” he said, more strongly.  “I... yeah, I want that, Kurt. Fuck... so much.” He hugged him again, fiercely, and if it was a little possessive, Kurt didn’t mind at all.

“I know you’ve always told me not to settle, not before you were ready to be out,” Kurt went on, speaking into Noah’s neck. “And maybe I am settling, a little, but... I think we know one each other well enough by now to believe this isn’t something that’s going to go away.  What we have, it’s real, and meaningful. And after everything we’ve been through, I think it might survive the traumas of high school.  I don’t feel like I’m settling.  I feel like -- like I’m taking a calculated risk.  One that might be worth it.”

He felt Noah’s breath go in and out under his hand, and marveled at the sensation.   _This is Noah, in my arms, and I love him. I love him so much more than I hate him being closeted._  

“I’m sorry I ignored you today, Kurt,” he said, his voice low and pained. “And I’m sorry I didn’t call you back this weekend. I don’t have any good reasons for doing those things, other than I was freaking out and I’m a shit.  And I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”  

“Just do your best.  It’s all I can ask for.”

Noah sat back, mouth set in a grim line. “You get that I’m freaking out because I don’t know if my best is good enough?”

“It’s good enough for me,” Kurt insisted.  “You’re trying.  You really are; I can tell.  Right now, that’s all I need.”

He wasn’t sure if Noah believed him, or even if he believed himself, but there’d been enough talking for now.  Kurt leaned over and did what he’d been dreaming of doing for the past two and a half years, and kissed him.

“You don’t think I’m taking advantage of you?” Noah asked, and Kurt could only laugh.

“Shut up,” he said, climbing into Noah’s lap, “and _take advantage of me.”_

_ _

<https://youtu.be/PZtYa7UhCWc>

_Shining like a work of art_  
_Hanging on a wall of stars_  
_Are you what I think you are?_

_You're my satellite_  
_You're riding with me tonight_  
_Passenger side, lighting the sky_  
_Always the first star that I find_  
_You're my satellite_

_Elevator to the moon_  
_Whistling our favorite tune_  
_Trying to get a closer view_  
_Maybe you will always be_  
_Just a little out of reach_

_\- Guster, “Satellite”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits:
> 
> [Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare, Act III, Scene 1.](http://shakespeare.mit.edu/twelfth_night/twelfth_night.3.1.html)


	2. Chapter 2

One of the inevitable consequences of being sexually active with Noah was that it was even harder than usual to hide their affection for one another. Kurt thought he did a much better job at this than Noah did. More than once a day, he caught him leering.

“Everybody’s just going to think I’m being an asshole!” Noah protested when Kurt called him on it.

“You _are_ an asshole,” said Kurt. The implied _but you’re my asshole_ made them both crack up, which was followed by, of course, kissing.

They had been doing a lot of kissing, now that it was clear to both of them that a) they both liked it a lot and b) they were pretty damn good at it. Kurt was no stranger to being aroused most of the time, but spending time kissing with Noah had escalated that status to dangerously high levels. It seemed like every time he turned around he had an erection. It made it a lot harder to concentrate at school, because he _knew_ Noah would help him do something about that if he so much as hinted at it. Sometimes they would go to his car in the middle of the day, but most of the time Kurt was able to deny his urges until after school.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Kurt told him, after they’d collapsed in the back seat following a particularly frenzied mutual hand job. “I know you’re just as turned on as I am every day. Is this the way it’s always been for you around… everybody?”

“Not everybody.” Noah rested his head on Kurt’s thigh, considering this. “A whole fucking lot of guys at camp, though. Chris and I snuck into each other’s rooms all the time just to get off in the middle of the day.”

Kurt tried not to feel jealous of Chris.  He knew Noah had told him there was no reason to be jealous, that what he’d had with Chris had been nothing but physical, but Kurt had met him. He remembered not only what Chris looked like, but also the kind of person he seemed to be, and especially what a good actor he was. It was hard not to be a little intimidated by his presence in Noah’s life, even if what they had was now in the past.

“Did you and Chris do… what we do?” asked Kurt.

Noah glanced up at him. “Some of it? Mostly we did a lot of oral.”

Kurt shuddered reflexively. “I — I’m sorry I haven’t asked you for that.”

“Hey, babe,” he said softly. He ran a hand down Kurt’s leg, and despite what they’d just done, Kurt felt himself respond. “It’s okay. I like what we do. No rush, okay?”

“Okay.” He let himself be drawn into another kiss, which went on for a good long time, but Kurt couldn’t let himself relax. Eventually Noah sat back, looking at him with apparent annoyance.

“You’ve been thinking about this? This blowjob thing?”

“Well, yes.” Kurt felt a little defensive. “I know it’s irrational. Sometimes it sounds really hot, but mostly I have a hard time getting past some of the logistics. No matter what my fantasies say, I don’t know if I could do it.”

Noah’s fingers trailed up his inner thigh. “I think if I did it to you, you’d love it.”

Kurt huffed, pushing Noah’s hand away. “I might. _And_ you can stop talking about it any time.”

Some of the things in their life weren’t all that different on the surface. Glee was almost identical. Sometimes Kurt and Noah would end up at the same table together at lunch, and even though they never sat next to one another, no one thought it was strange when they tossed snarky comments back and forth. Even though he was no longer on the football team or the Cheerios, Kurt already attended all the football games, and it was easy enough for him to say he was there to support Finn. If he cheered for Noah along with the rest of the team, that was fine.

The atmosphere at home at the moment felt stilted and awkward. Finn was absent more often than not. His dad appeared to ignore the small touches and chaste kisses Kurt and Noah shared in front of him. Carole was the only one who seemed to be in favor of their attempted relationship, such as it was, but she didn’t say much about it in front of Kurt’s dad or Finn.

On Tuesday, Noah and Kurt attended the theater club at the university. The faculty advisor, Jenna, hugged them when they walked in.

“It’s great to see you both,” she said. “It’s been a while since you were here together.”

“There was… a conflict,” said Kurt. “But I think we’ve figured out the logistics now.”

It was easy to let themselves be a little more free there, where there was no one watching. That week they worked in groups of three, taking turns reading a contemporary monologue while the other two provided critique on pacing.  When their partner Hailey suggested, “How about this one from _Glengarry Glen Ross?”_ Kurt laughed, but Noah just shook his head and picked up _26-Year-Old Bar Mitzvah Boy_ instead. Before their eyes, he dropped his usual sneer and transformed into a nervous, uncertain kid.

“I've been thinking a lot about what you said that night,” read Noah, in a voice entirely unlike his own. “That I'm not ready, that I need to grow up, that I'm not a man, and you want a man.  I've been thinking about it and I wanted you to know, I think I figured out how to fix that, uh, issue.”

Kurt was delighted by Noah’s comedic presentation, just as much as he had been by his dramatic roles in the past. The admiration seemed to be mutual. When Kurt chose to read Eugene from _Brighton Beach Memoirs_ , Noah watched the whole thing in silence, looking at him with shining eyes. Hailey giggled.

“Maybe you’re just so convincing because you really _are_ sixteen,” she said to Kurt. “But this would be a great role for you.”

“Chris played Eugene at theater camp,” said Noah, “the summer before I did Duke Orsino in Twelfth Night. He was pretty good, but…” His smile made Kurt’s heart stumble. “You’d be better.”

He did his best to pay attention to Hailey’s presentation of Gwendolyn’s monologue from _The Importance of Being Earnest,_ but it was hard to ignore Noah’s presence beside him.

When Hailey returned to sit with them, she smiled curiously at Noah’s hand resting on Kurt’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you and _Noah_ were friends.”

Noah dropped his hand, but it was too late. They spent the rest of the evening trying not to look at or touch one another at all.

When Kurt got home, he sent Noah a text. _I guess we weren’t being all that subtle._

Noah didn’t respond right away, but Kurt got a call from him after dinner. He could hear the indistinct noise of Sarah and Mrs. Puckerman arguing in the background.

 _“Theater’s not about being subtle,”_ Noah said, like they were already in the middle of a conversation. _“You want subtle, go be a fucking movie actor. Theater’s about being larger than life.”_

“I just didn’t expect we’d run into anybody at theater club who knew who we were,” Kurt said. He caught Finn’s eye, watching him from across the family room, but he looked away as soon as Kurt looked over.

" _Whatever. I told you, I don’t have to go. Especially if you’re gonna be weird about it.”_

“If _I’m_ going to be weird about it?” Kurt protested. “I’m not the one who cares, Noah.”

_“Yeah? Is that why you never read to me anymore? I just think you don’t want to do it in front of Finn.”_

He could have said something about what an asshole Noah had been when he’d gotten home from juvie, but it wasn’t exactly worth arguing about. “You’re telling me you’d be okay with me doing that?”

“ _Just ask him, Kurt.”_ He sounded exhausted. “ _Go ahead. I’ll wait. Or — fuck, hand him the phone. I’ll ask him myself.”_

“You — “ He licked his lips, then sat up and held the phone out to Finn, who looked startled.

“What’s that?” asked Finn nervously.

“Noah wants to ask you something.”

Finn looked over at his mom, who very pointedly wasn’t watching them while she read her book. He put the phone to his ear. “Hello?… Uh, yeah, I know, I’ve — well, no.” There was a pause. Finn looked up at Kurt, obviously confused. “I didn’t know he did that.”

“Did what?” he asked, too anxious not to interrupt.

“You read to Puck every day when he was in juvie?”

Carole did a poor job of disguising her smile. Kurt scowled. “Most days, yes. I didn’t want — he was alone.”

Finn was already listening again. “It’s that book he brought you in Sheets’n’Things, right? The one about Ender. Well, dude, it’s next to his bed, I see it every day. Yeah. Sure, it’s fine, whatever.” He handed the phone back to Kurt, shrugging. “You can read to him any time, man.” He dropped his voice and added, “As long as it’s not porn.”

Kurt could feel his cheeks burning, but he gave Finn a stiff nod of thanks before hurrying away with the phone.

“I can’t believe you did that!” he hissed.

_“Why are you so freaked out about Finn? Is it because of what Sam said before, about thinking Finn had a crush on him?”_

“No!” Kurt had to stop on the staircase and think about it, because he wasn’t exactly sure _why_ he was so worried about what Finn thought. “It’s because I can tell Finn’s uncomfortable about us, and I don’t want it to be the way it was before. That argument we had this fall, it was awful.”

_“But he apologized. He made that whole shower curtain dress thing.”_

Kurt had no further explanation. He gazed down the stairs at the book beside the bed. “Do you want me to read to you or not?”

_“It’s too loud here right now for me to listen.”_

“You could just come over?” He paused when Noah didn’t respond, wondering if he should have said that at all. He flinched when he heard Sarah’s eight-year-old voice yell, _“That’s just stupid and you know it.”_

Noah sighed. “ _Okay. Yeah. I’ll be over in a little bit.”_

Kurt couldn’t settle down while he waited, but he didn’t want to go back upstairs, either. He rummaged in the back of his closet and dug out the new book in the Bean saga, _Shadow of the Giant._ They were almost done with _Shadow Puppets,_ so this would be the next one. While he was reading the blurb, the phone rang again. This time it was Blaine.

“Hi!” Kurt said, trying not to sound too surprised. “I’m sorry I haven’t called, it’s been — kind of a busy week.”

 _“No, it’s fine.”_ Blaine sounded so pleased, Kurt was able to relax enough to perch on the edge of his bed. _“It’s been busy here, too. My brother’s visiting this weekend.”_

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a brother?”

 _“He’s an actor in California.”_ He laughed. _“Would you know who he was if I told you he did the Free Credit Rating commercial?”_

“Uh… I’m sorry, but I don’t really watch a lot of television these days.” All Kurt could think about was Noah’s dismissive comment about the other folks at theater camp who did commercials: _it’s boring and a total sell-out, but at least it pays the rent until your next audition._ “But how cool that your brother’s an actor!”

 _“Yeah, he’s a hard act to follow. It wasn’t enough that he was straight and tall and good-looking, I guess.”_ Blaine laughed again, and it was a little bit strained.

“You’ve got the good-looking thing covered.”

_“Oh, well, I don’t know.”_

Kurt grinned to himself at Blaine’s obvious fish for compliments. Noah didn’t do that. Either he owned how awesome he was, or he honestly didn’t believe it.

“ _So I was thinking, this Friday night, they’re doing a limited screen showing in Columbus of Last Play at Shea, that documentary about Billy Joel’s concert at the closing of Shea Stadium? I was wondering if you would like to go.”_

He looked at the book in his lap and tried to figure out how to answer. “I’d like to see it very much,” he said truthfully, “but… I don’t know yet if I have plans. Noah and I, we’re kind of…”

 _“Going out?”_ Blaine sounded amused. _“Last you told me, it was more like staying in. Or has he decided to take that step after all?”_

“No.” He looked up to see Noah standing at the top of the stairs, and beckoned him down. “No, it’s — the same. But I should still ask him.”

_“Suit yourself, Kurt. Just let me know. I’ll hang on to the extra ticket. I know my parents and brother would love to meet you.”_

“I’ll let you know. Thanks for inviting me, Blaine.”

Noah’s face went carefully blank when Kurt said _Blaine._ He sat on Finn’s bed, taking the book from Kurt’s hand and flipping through it while Kurt finished his conversation.

“You guys got something going on?” he asked, too-casually, after Kurt hung up.

“It’s nothing. He asked me to the Billy Joel movie.”

Noah scowled at him. “Maybe I wanted to take you to that movie.” He paused. “What Billy Joel movie?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Forget about it. I told him I might be busy. But you didn’t exactly invite me out on Friday, so I didn’t know what to tell him.”

“I don’t _exactly_ have any _money_ to invite you out."

“Like you’d invite me out anyway?” Kurt reached out and touched his knee. “I’m not looking for you to do that, Noah. I don’t need you to take me on a date.”

“Well, that’s what it sounds like _Blaine_ wants to do.”

Kurt snatched his hand back. “God, what are we, in third grade?”

Noah’s scowl was focused on his own lap now. Kurt waited until it was clear Noah wasn’t going to say anything else, then picked up the copy of _Shadow Puppets_ and opened it at the bookmark.

“You can sit over there if you want to,” Kurt said icily, pointing at Finn’s bed. “But if I recall, that wasn’t your preference.”

“No,” said Noah. His voice was soft. “But if I sit with you on your bed, I’m not gonna be able to concentrate very well.”

“I think we can exercise some amount of self-control.”

Kurt wasn’t actually sure of any such thing. Noah took off his jacket and tossed it on Finn’s bed, then crawled behind Kurt to sit against the wall, propped up on the pile of pillows. Finally, he opened his arms and legs, gesturing for Kurt to sit against him. Noah’s body radiated heat as Kurt snuggled into his arms, and simply continuing to maintain his regular breathing suddenly became a challenge. He rested his cheek briefly against Noah’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” said Noah, surprising him.

“It’s okay,” he said immediately, even though seconds before it hadn’t been okay at all. His anger seemed to have evaporated.

“It’s really not, Kurt.” He grimaced. “You’re giving me a break from the drama at my house. I didn’t really mean to bring it with me.”

“Is it… your mom?”

“Yeah.” Noah wrapped his arms around Kurt from behind, resting his head against Kurt’s cheek. “Sarah’s been standing up for us. My Ma’s not so crazy about that.”

“Oh.” That was so sweet and unexpected, and Noah’s arms felt so good, that he turned his head and kissed him. Noah’s chuckle made his neck tingle.

“You said we weren’t going to do that?” He nudged his hips experimentally against Kurt’s behind. “Because I am totally down with making out _and_ reading. Shame if you decided it had to be one or the other.”

“The door’s open,” he murmured, but he turned around far enough to kiss Noah again, a real kiss this time. It was hard to stop, but finally he put both hands on Noah’s chest and took a resolute breath. “Okay. Reading.”

Noah remained surprisingly docile as Kurt read the rest of _Shadow Puppets_ , in which Bean finally managed to kill Achilles. They were both focused enough on the action that when Finn came downstairs, Kurt didn’t even pause.

When he finished, Noah let out a sigh. “That was a sucky ending.”

“Hey!” Kurt swatted him on the shoulder with the book. “At least Petra and Bean are back together. And they won, kind of. China surrendered.”

“Yeah, but Bean still doesn’t have his kids back yet. Embryos. Whatever.”

“I thought this was a science fiction book,” said Finn. They glanced at each other, then over at him.

“It is.”

“But they’re on Earth?”

“Not all science fiction is set in space. But this one is sometimes.” Noah gave Kurt a little push, and he got up from the bed. “C’mon… we’ll go take a drive.”

“You guys don’t have to leave.” Finn was blushing. “I can go upstairs. You get to be alone if you want to be.”

“Not a whole lot we can do with the door open,” said Noah. Now Kurt was blushing, too.

“I’m just saying,” Finn said. He looked like he might want to hide, but he added, “Mom would talk to your dad, Kurt, about being fair. I mean, Rachel and I don’t have to keep the door open.”

“That’s because Rachel won’t _do_ anything,” Noah muttered.

“Thank you, Finn,” interjected Kurt. “That’s very nice of you to think of us. I think we’re going to have to negotiate that for ourselves.”

“I just don’t like the double standard. Especially, like, you guys can’t even _get_ pregnant.” Finn closed his mouth, apparently deciding he’d said enough.

Noah managed to get upstairs before breaking out in hysterical laughter. Kurt pushed him ahead toward the door, and called out to his dad, who was frowning at them from the couch, “Back in a little bit.”

“What was _that?”_ Noah sputtered, pulling the front door of his truck open. “Finn’s our anti-cockblock now?”

“Oh, my god.” Kurt glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then wheeled on Noah. “Finn was trying to help. You didn’t have to make fun of him.”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t doing that. He was managing to be hilarious all by himself.”

“He doesn’t need to put himself out there, but he is!” Kurt insisted. “Just like Sarah is. The least you could do is be nice to him.”

“I’ve never been _nice_ to Finn, Kurt.” He shook his head irritably. “And he doesn’t expect me to start. I’m not a _nice_ person.”

“You are with me! You _are,_ Noah. I’ve seen who you are. You don’t have to be — like that.”

“Is that what this is about? You’re trying to reform me? Did you even watch _Grease?”_ He shook his head, climbing into the truck. “Nobody actually wants the good guy, Kurt. The good guy is boring. People want the risk-taker, the comic relief. They want the hero. He’s the one who wins.” He put the key in the ignition. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” But Kurt was already hurrying around to the passenger side, tugging hard on the stuck door to pull it open. _It apparently doesn’t matter where we’re going,_ he thought ruefully. _I’m following him anyway._

“Somewhere other than your driveway. It’s better than my house, but… I could use a little time alone with you.”

Kurt almost said, _Don’t I get a say?_ But the answer was actually _yes, please,_ and Noah clearly had picked up on this. Sitting in Noah’s lap for forty-five minutes while reading hadn’t done anything to settle him down.

Lima was full of dead-end streets and empty parking lots. Noah pulled in along the dirt road that led to the reservoir, turned off the truck, released his seatbelt and locked the doors. But after that, he didn’t do anything. He just sat there and looked at Kurt in the moonlight.

“You don’t really want a nice guy,” said Noah again. Now he sounded uncertain.

Kurt took a deep breath and let it out. “Sometimes I do. You’re nice to me.”

“Sometimes.” He shrugged, cracking his knuckles. “I try to… give you what you need.”

He willed himself not to melt. “You really think you know what I need?”

“I think I do, Kurt. I’ve been watching you for a long time.”

“And what do I need?”

He scooted closer on the seat, and Kurt did the same, listening. “I think you need… passion. Something to shake you up a little bit. When people give you the status quo, you kind of hate that. You want something bigger, brighter, a little more surprising. _”_

Kurt had gotten close enough on the bench that he was back in Noah’s lap, but this time they were facing one another. He ran a hand down the center of Noah’s chest, all the way to his stomach, and paused at his zipper. “You’ve been giving me what I need all week.”

Noah chuckled. That sound always made Kurt quiver inside, even when it wasn’t directed at him. “As much as I can in the back of your car, babe.”

“You think I need… more?” The word came out breathy, and Noah leaned in for a kiss just as Kurt pressed his hand to the thickness in Noah’s jeans, and they both moaned.

“Yeah,” said Noah. He tugged at the hem of Kurt’s shirt until it came untucked, and he slid his hands underneath to stroke his skin. “You need a lot more. But this isn’t the place. Like you said, we’re gonna have to figure that out.”

Kurt was relieved to see that Noah had replaced the towel in his glove compartment with a clean one. He also knew by now that the hand lotion in there wasn’t hand lotion, but water-based lubricant. The scary-huge sex toy had disappeared. As their clothes came off a piece at a time, he couldn’t help wonder about it.

“The… thing,” he said, tipping his neck back to give Noah better access. “Oh… yes. The toy, in your glove box.”

He felt Noah immediately tense, although he didn’t stop kissing Kurt’s neck. “I usually keep it in the bathroom.”

The images that filled his mind were compelling. “Why the bathroom?”

“Door with a lock, and access to lube. And easy cleanup.”

Noah was still wearing his jeans, but his zipper was undone, and Kurt’s hand was able to fit inside. He could feel exactly what their conversation was doing to Noah.

“Would you…” Kurt took a deep breath. “Would you let me… be inside you? Sometime?”

“Oh fuck yes,” Noah said, exhaling. “Yeah. You could do that to me any time. _Any_ time.”

“Right now?” Kurt whispered.

Noah’s eyes widened, and he gave Kurt a quick nod. Kurt moved back to give Noah room to struggle out of his jeans and underwear, then lie back, naked, on the truck’s seat. He put an arm behind his head, looking for all the world like a male model in a magazine. His muscular arms and his seductive expression were almost more compelling than his erection resting on his belly, but eventually Kurt’s eyes were drawn down to look at that.

“You want to fuck me with that big cock, Kurt?” Noah said. His hand went to his own and started stroking it lightly as he spread his legs open.

“Maybe.” Kurt felt his own immediate response to the idea, and he touched himself through his tight briefs. He watched Noah’s eyes zero in on his hand.

“It makes me come in, like, three seconds. Every time.” His hand was stroking a firm rhythm now. “I just… slide it in, and bam, I’m done.”

“Oh,” said Kurt. He bit his lip. “I don’t think… I mean, I don’t know if I can do that right now.”

“Yeah, no, just…  your fingers? This seat is too narrow for you to, uh.” An amazed smile appeared and disappeared on his face within the span of a moment, but Kurt saw it.

“I want to do that, too.” He reached out and ran his fingers along the inside of Noah’s thigh, and Noah’s hand began to stroke more quickly. “I really, really want to… be inside you, like that.”

“Fuck. Yeah.” His eyes flickered over to the glove box. “I bet I’m gonna come in three seconds anyway, thinking about that. Can you get the lube? And a condom. For your fingers. It won’t be so messy.”

Kurt quickly ripped open a condom, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the latex, and dubiously rolled it open along one finger. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Here, let me…” Noah took the bottle of lube from Kurt and squirted a dab onto the pads of his fingers. Kurt watched with increasing fascination as he spread the lube all over the skin beneath his tight balls. He was certain he’d never really _looked_ between anyone else’s legs before, particularly not from this angle. “Now…” He reached for Kurt’s hand, and placed the condom-clad finger right against his opening. Kurt couldn’t help let out a noise as it pulsed beneath the pressure of his fingertip. “Right there. Just… hold it right there for a second.”

“Oh, wow,” he murmured, as Noah began to stroke himself again. Noah’s breathing, harsh and fast and peppered with moans, was exactly what he remembered hearing over the phone. “This — this is what you did? When we were, uh — talking last summer?“

“Yeah, pretty much every time. Okay… I’m ready, babe, just… push. Like that, yes, fuck —“ Noah actually _whined,_ and Kurt leaned in closer, trying to get a better angle.

“Is that too much?” he asked anxiously.

“Not — not enough. Another finger.”

Kurt fumbled to hold the condom with his other hand, trying to keep it from sliding off, but finally managed to get another finger into the ring of latex. This time it was tighter, but Noah didn’t seem to care. He nodded encouragement, his eyes almost closed. Kurt held his breath and pushed inside, feeling the amazing heat of Noah’s body around his fingers. “Oh, my god, you are so… hot.”

Noah didn’t open his eyes, but his hand on his dick stopped moving, and he sat there for a few seconds, just breathing. “Kurt…”

“Yeah?”

“If you… can you kiss me while you do that?”

Kurt managed to curl his body into Noah’s, supporting his head and placing soft kisses on Noah’s slack lips while keeping both fingers inside him. The muscles of his fingers contracted, and whatever he did made Noah gasp.

“Good or bad?” Kurt asked immediately.

“Fuck, so good,” Noah promised. “Again.”

This time, Noah kissed him back, and Kurt twitched his fingers less than a dozen times more before Noah cried out, thrusting his hips up into Kurt’s fingers as he came. Kurt thought, if Noah’s hand had so much as brushed his own dick, he would have come too. As it was, he just kept kissing him and gently moving his fingers until Noah nudged him to slide out.

“I guess that was okay?” he asked. He carefully rolled the condom off his fingers and turned it inside-out. Noah opened his eyes, and when Kurt saw the tears shining beneath his lids, he burst out, “Oh, no, did I hurt you?”

“No!” Noah shook his head emphatically. “No, Kurt, it’s… that was awesome. I’ve just never done with somebody else.” He reached for Kurt and pulled him down on top of him. Kurt fit himself as best as he could onto the length of the bench seat. “First time. Just like last Saturday with you, that was a first too.”

Kurt tried not to think about the potential of Noah having done that with girls, but he had to ask, “Do you think you might… want to do it again?”

“If you want that, yeah.”

“I want that.” Kurt shifted on the bench, which did indeed seem to be very narrow when he was on top of Noah like this, but he still managed to move so that the head of his dick was pressed against Noah’s soft, wet opening. Even through the cloth of his briefs, it felt amazing. He saw Noah’s startled expression, watched his mouth go slack.

“Uh —“ He swore quietly as Kurt pressed into him again, just enough for the head of his dick to slip inside, then out again. “That’s — fuck, Kurt, that’s —”

“I think I might want _this_ ,” said Kurt, a little apologetically. “Right now. I know I said I couldn’t but I just decided I could, and… can I? Please?”

He could feel the way Noah’s own dick, which had gone soft, was already twitching and growing again. Kurt’s briefs were now soaking wet. He was kind of surprised to discover he didn’t care, that it was actually incredibly arousing. He reached down and pulled them aside, and this time he pressed the bare head of his dick into Noah.

“Kurt,” Noah said, sounding panicked, “you should really — use a condom for that.”

“I should?” Kurt suddenly realized what he was doing, and he sat back in a hurry. “Oh. I’m sorry. Right.”

“Just…” Noah was breathing erratically. He was completely hard now. “Until we can talk about it.”

Kurt went through the motions of reaching into the glove compartment for a new condom and rolling it onto himself, but his mind was whirling. He held out the bottle of lube, and Noah reapplied it to himself without comment while Kurt managed to take off his wet underwear.

“I think I would have just gone ahead with that,” he said, feeling the hot flush of shame. “If you hadn’t stopped me. I would have — done that without a condom. Because it felt so good, and I — I wasn’t thinking.”

“You and a gazillion other people,” said Noah. He didn’t look upset. On the contrary, he was smiling. “I’ve done it too. C’mere.”

This time, as Kurt knelt over Noah, he watched Noah’s face as the head of his dick disappeared inside him. It was definitely a _good_ expression Noah was wearing, something like bliss or maybe awe. The further inside Kurt went, the better the expression got, until Kurt was kneeling in front of Noah’s canted hips, pressed flush against his body. Noah made a strangled groan and put his hand on his own dick.

“Can you —  like that, again?”

Kurt hoped the condom wouldn’t slide off, because his hands were a little busy, balancing himself upright on the back of the seat of the truck. His attention was torn in several different directions, all of them amazing. He was a little embarrassed at just how hot it was to _watch_ himself enter Noah. “Can I move… faster?”

“Anything,” Noah begged, “just _do_ me, Kurt.”

That was a heady request. Kurt felt his own response spiraling out of control as he began to thrust slowly, each time eliciting a fresh moan from Noah, and an echoing one from himself. He didn’t seem to be slipping off the bench, but he could see the way the pressure of his thrusts were forcing Noah further back against the door. “Do you want to —“ he began to say, but then Noah grabbed his hip, leaning into him like he was doing a sit-up, the muscles of his stomach straining.

“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” Noah whispered.

Kurt did his very best to continue thrusting, but considering just how turned on he’d been before he even slid inside Noah, it was clearly futile.

“I’m — Noah, I’m coming.” It was meant to be a warning, but even as he said it, he was already feeling himself doing that, _inside_ of him. With all the force of his hips, he pushed into Noah’s body and held himself there while Noah stroked himself with desperate focus, until finally he gasped and shot pulses of thick liquid onto his own chest.

Kurt waited as long as he could before tugging on Noah’s limp arm. “You’re all squashed up against the door here.”

“Don’t care,” Noah mumbled, but he let Kurt maneuver his body back to the center of the bench. He was able to take the towel from Kurt when it was offered to him. They took turns cleaning off their sticky skin and the seat of the truck. Then Noah sat up, gingerly wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands.

“Fuck, Kurt.” He turned a shaky smile on him. “That was… fucking awesome.”

Kurt laughed helplessly. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You are _not_ allowed to apologize for doing that,” Noah said emphatically, pointing a finger at him, which only made Kurt laugh harder. It seemed like a reasonable response to stress. Then Noah opened his arms, and Kurt fell into them and started to cry instead of laugh, and Noah just held him, naked and shaking, stroking his hair and murmuring meaningless words into his ear until he was done.

“It’s not that any of it was bad,” he said at last, as he wiped his nose on a corner of the towel. “It’s that… I don’t know. Maybe it’s because this isn’t how I expected my first time to go.”

“I think we’ve had a lot of first times, Kurt.” Noah shrugged, pulling his t-shirt back on. “This one’s just one more. And anyway, this whole _relationship_ isn’t exactly what you expected, right?”

That was true. He picked up his pair of wet underwear, then dropped them onto the floor of the truck with a shudder of distaste. “I think I’m going to have to let go of a whole bunch of preconceptions about what a relationship should be like. But maybe that’s healthier.”

Noah shot him a brilliant smile. “Yeah, sorry… I’m feeling way too smug right now to care about whether or not you’re settling.”

Now that they’d both been satisfied, their kissing was more calm but no less pleasurable. _First time being naked together,_ thought Kurt, and took the opportunity to touch every part of Noah he could reach, even the really intimate ones, and he felt nothing but amazed and grateful and delighted by the whole thing.

“I was wondering,” he said, nuzzling Noah’s ear. “Every time we’ve… done stuff, so far, you’ve been first. To finish.”

Noah actually looked embarrassed. “You can just assume that’s part of me being an asshole if you want.”

“I don’t, actually. That’s what made me wonder.” He ran a gentle finger over Noah’s left nipple, now ringless, still healing from its encounter in juvie. “If you want to explain, I’ll listen.”

Noah sighed. “It’s not that complicated. I’m pretty sure if I don’t come first, there’s no way I’m going to last through getting you off.”

Kurt blinked. “Oh.”

“You just… you turn me on a lot. I mean, a _lot,_ and I could get all crazy with the metaphor, but… you’re just going to have to assume it’s a lot. I’m used to having some staying power, with girls? But apparently not with you.” Noah smiled to himself, a shy smile that made Kurt’s heart twist and leap in crazy ways. “I bet I never told you about the first time I fantasized about you?”

“No,” said Kurt, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah, it was before we really met. I don’t know if you remember this, but we were in English class together in seventh grade.”

Kurt had some vague memories of Noah sitting in the back row, throwing spit balls at Finn and making dirty jokes about _Pride and Prejudice._ “Yes, I remember.”

“We read _The Color Purple._ That whole thing about Celie’s gay relationship, it was seriously way above most kids’ heads, and Mrs. Trewitt didn’t even bring it up — but you not only called her on it, you argued with her about it.” Noah’s grin was incandescent. “It was just like the conversations my dad and his friends used to have at the opera house when I was a kid. You were so… impressive, haughty and totally fearless. It was awesome. Plus I think you were the first kid I ever heard say the word _lesbian_ with a straight face. No pun intended.”

Kurt could feel his smile threatening to take over his face. “Oh my god, Noah, I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Dude, I remember _everything,”_ said Noah, sounding indignant. “Anyway. That was when I started paying attention to you. I was pretty sure you were gay, even then, but there was no way I was going to talk to you, much less ask you about it. Even when I did finally get up the courage to ask you, when you were reading to me over the summer you were in _Grease —_ remember that? — you said no.”

“I panicked,” protested Kurt. “You asked me if I was _like those boy choir fags_ or something, and I wasn’t about to say I was. I wasn’t even out to anybody yet, not even Andrea.”

“Yeah, I guess it was lucky for you that you grew up with a lesbian best friend across the street, huh?” He traced the contour of Kurt’s slim shoulder down to his elbow, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “So… yeah, pretty much after that, you were on my radar. And then you started showing up in my fantasies. You had this, I don’t know, this maroon shirt with a million buttons?”

Kurt laughed. “I remember that shirt!”

“Yeah, okay, so I used to imagine you saying, _start at the top and go down._ And in my head, I would start at the collar, and unbutton each button, one at a time, opening your shirt a little at a time, and by the time I got to your chest, I’d be totally hard. I didn’t ever actually make it to the end because I’d stop and jerk off.”

“Oh, wow,” he marveled, feeling the blush spread from his cheeks to his neck. “That seems awfully young to be… uh, doing that.”

“Are you kidding me?” Noah stared at him. “Try _seven._ Or maybe younger, but I definitely didn’t start having orgasms until I was seven. And I didn’t really know what they were until I started shooting jism, and that was maybe ten or eleven.”

Kurt pressed his lips together. “I, um. I had a couple specific fantasies about you.”

Noah’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah?”

He hid beneath his hand. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. Okay, the first one started back when we were doing _Grease,_ and I was reading _Ender’s Game_ to you so you could pass eighth grade Lit  & Comp? There was something… well, I can’t remember what it was, but I know I was worried you might want me to stop reading to you. I remember it feeling really traumatic, because even then I was already in love with you.”

“Kurt.” Noah looked dumbfounded. “Really?”

“You doubt it? Noah, it was practically from day one. Certainly after you played that Procul Harum song from _The Big Chill_ in the stairwell during rehearsal.” He took a long breath. “So I said we could stop reading if you wanted, and you said _why don't you let me be the one to tell you when I want you to stop._ That… prompted a lot of fantasies. I wish I could remember why I offered.”

Now Noah was smiling again. “It was because you came out to me. You thought I might not want to be your friend anymore.” He chuckled. “After you told me you _weren’t_ gay _,_ I called Chris that afternoon and told him that I thought maybe you actually _were_ , and he told me to stop being such a pussy and just talk to you. That night, I called you back, and I told you I didn’t care who you wanted to fuck. That was about all I could handle saying at the time. Luckily you didn’t punch me in the face.”

“No,” Kurt said. “And honestly, I… didn’t want to… to fuck _anyone_ before that summer.”

Noah’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss Kurt gently on the lips. “And now,” he murmured, “tonight, you fucked me. How do you like that?”

“I liked it a lot,” he admitted, and Noah laughed before kissing him again.

The thing that was the most different was their British Literature class. Kurt had never chosen to sit near Noah in any of his other classes, and especially not this one. Mr. Tracy had figured out a long time ago that Noah didn’t appreciate Kurt offering him any kind of academic coaching.

But this week, when Kurt came into class just before the bell, it appeared the only seat remaining was beside Noah. He didn’t look at Kurt when he sat down, but while Mr. Tracy was passing out a stack of chapbooks, he leaned forward against his desk, close enough to Kurt to be heard without drawing attention. “You okay being partners?”

“Looks like we don’t have a choice,” muttered Kurt.

Noah smirked. “Today it’s platonic.”

 _If that’s even possible anymore._ Kurt averted his eyes, and was caught by the title on the cover of the chapbook in his hands: _47 Classic Dialogues of the Stage and Screen: Male/Male._

“These books contain dialogues from plays,” said Mr. Tracy. “I’m going to have you pair up with someone based on the type of dialogue your book includes, and choose one to read together. Take a few minutes to find a partner who has a book matching yours. They’re color-coded.”

Noah held up a chapbook with a blue cover like Kurt’s, not bothering to move from his relaxed position in the chair. “You want to pick?”

Kurt glanced around them, but everyone’s attention was on finding their own partners, not on the two of them. He settled back down in his own chair, dragging it over a little to face Noah, and found himself fixating on Noah’s bare arms protruding from his tight t-shirt. _Focus,_ he told himself sternly.

“I don’t know most of them,” he said. “You’re the — um.” _Theater expert_ did not really describe Puck, or at least no one in their class would have expected it to. “How about you choose one?”

It took Noah about thirty seconds to page through the chapbook before he spread the book open and handed it to Kurt. “Number sixteen.”

It was a conversation between two men from Shakespeare’s _The Merchant of Venice._ Bassanio and Antonio were, according to the notes, good friends. Amid the hesitant murmuring of other couples to one another around the room, Kurt took a deep breath and began with Antonio’s part: “Well, tell me now what lady is the same / To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, / That you to-day promised to tell me of?”

At first, Kurt thought Noah might read the whole thing straight, like he was an ordinary eleventh-grader forced to recite anything in class. He could have done it like that, like it was a chore that meant nothing to him, but he didn’t. As he spoke, Kurt was immediately overwhelmed by the desperation in Noah’s eyes, in the movement of his lips, the way he implored Antonio’s help with subtle gestures and expressed despair at his financial situation. It was beyond anything Kurt had expected.

“To you, Antonio,” said Noah, “I owe the most, in money and in love, / And from your love I have a warranty / To unburden all my plots and purposes / How to get clear of all the debts I owe.”

Kurt blinked at him, trying not to let the personal meaning of the words color his own response. Noah seemed oblivious, entirely swallowed by the role he was playing. Kurt tried his best to mimic Noah’s pacing and focus, to play the part as effortlessly as Noah did.

“I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it,” he said. “And if it stand, as you yourself still do, / Within the eye of honour, be assured, / My purse, my person, my extremest means, / Lie all unlock'd to your occasions.”

Noah gave him the sunniest, craftiest smile, and Kurt almost laughed aloud. It was an expression he’d seen before, but never at school, and certainly not in the middle of class. Noah came over and clapped Kurt on the shoulder, as Bassanio almost certainly would have done, while he outlined his plan to get out of debt in flawless iambic pentameter. Kurt didn’t even notice Noah’s chapbook on his desk until he was four or five lines into the speech, and realized with a shock that Noah was doing the entire scene from memory. He wondered when Noah had been in _The Merchant of Venice._

“Then do but say to me what I should do / That in your knowledge may by me be done,” read Kurt in response.

Noah leaned in close and caught his breath, his face so alight with hope that Kurt could scarcely hold back the _oh_ that tried to escape his lips.

“In Belmont is a lady richly left,” Noah said in a hushed voice. “And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, / Of wondrous virtues…”

As Noah-as-Bassanio described the lady Portia, Kurt felt the oddest sensation of hot jealousy. It didn’t matter to his reptilian brain that Portia was a fictional character. _He_ wanted Noah to be talking about _him_ that way.

“O my Antonio.” Noah reached out both hands and took Kurt’s, startling him. His eyes caught Kurt’s with the same ease. “Had I but the means / To hold a rival place with one of them, / I have a mind presages me such thrift, / That I should questionless be fortunate!”

It didn’t matter that Kurt didn’t quite understand what Shakespeare’s lines meant. If he hadn’t had a script, if Noah had said those words to him in that way, he would have simply replied _yes, anything, I’ll give you whatever you need._ As he glanced down at the last part of the scene, it turned out that was pretty much what Antonio was supposed to say.

“Try what my credit can in Venice do: / That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost, / To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.” He gave Noah-as-Bassanio an encouraging nod. “Go, presently inquire, and so will I, / Where money is, and I no question make / To have it of my trust or for my sake.”

Noah’s shaky sigh and devoted smile made him smile helplessly in return. When Noah gave him a firm handshake, Kurt thought a hug would have been more appropriate to the scene.

Then, as Noah took a step away and his face settled back into his own familiar sardonic expression, Kurt realized two things. The first was that they were the only ones in the room standing. The second was that the entire class was staring at them. Not one person was making a sound.

Noah seemed to realize the same thing at roughly the same time. His brows slid down his nose and he scowled at the assembled students, but before he could say anything, there was a collective sigh.

“Holy shit,” said Brian. His tone was not mocking, but impressed, almost reverent.

Celeste reached out and touched Noah’s arm. “That was really good. I mean… _really_ good.”

“How did you even _do_ it like that?” Xavier demanded.

Noah sent a wild, desperate glance over to Mr. Tracy, who was sitting on his desk watching them. Noah definitely looked like he was about to say _fuck this_ and head out the door, but Mr. Tracy’s face was a nonreactive mask, as though he didn’t care one way or the other what Noah was doing.

Whether or not he realized it, Kurt thought this may have been the best thing Mr. Tracy could have done. By the time Noah turned back to Xavier, his fight-or-flight response seemed to have settled to a moderate unease.

“Antonio says in the first line of the play that he’s sad,” he said, “and he doesn’t know why. I figure, it’s probably because of Bassanio. Bassanio’s important to Antonio, which makes everything that’s important to him important, too. Of course he knows Antonio’s going to give him the means to get out of debt and get the girl.”

“Well, what happens next?” Celeste asked. Several other kids murmured support for the question.

Kurt opened the chapbook and held it up. “That’s the end.”

“No way,” Noah said. “That’s just the beginning. Bassanio goes to Venice to borrow money from this Jewish moneylender, Shylock, using Antonio’s name.” He snorted. “Like Shakespeare would have even ever _seen_ a Jew in England in the 1500s. They all got kicked out in 1290. He wrote Shylock like he was a fucking devil or something. Sorry, Mr. T.”

Mr. Tracy didn’t seem fazed by Noah’s curse. He gestured for Noah to go on. “Then what?”

“Well, Shylock’s pretty pissed about the request, because Antonio’s a total anti-Semite who regularly spits on him and calls him a dog and stuff. Now he wants to borrow money from him? What a prick.”

“What about the the girl?” asked Brian. “The one you — I mean, Bassanio — thought was fair and virtuous. Does he ever get to see her?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Noah offhandedly. “That’s Portia. She and Bassanio get married. She’s sneaky, though. When Antonio’s in trouble, she totally cross-dresses as a doctor and saves the day.”

“You’re jumping ahead,” protested Mr. Tracy. “You didn’t even talk about the part with the three mysterious boxes, or Shylock threatening to cut Antonio’s heart out?”

There was a general hubbub as everybody spoke at once. That kind of environment had always made Kurt withdraw into himself to avoid becoming a target, but apparently it was nourishment to Noah, because he stood up and held up both hands. “Okay, you really want to know what happens next? Mr. T., you got a book of Shakespeare back there?”

“Uh,” said Mr. Tracy, looking startled. He rummaged in his bookshelf and came up with a large, beat-up softcover copy titled SHAKESPEARE - COMEDIES, heaving it across the room at Noah. “Here you go.”

Noah caught Mr. Tracy’s calculated throw and paged through to the next scene in _The Merchant of Venice_. He looked over at Kurt, who was beginning to wonder if he should stop things now before they got ugly. But no one was questioning this course of action. The entire class seemed to be focused on Noah, waiting on his word. Even Mr. Tracy looked anticipatory.

“You’re still Antonio, right?” he asked Kurt quietly. Kurt hesitated, then nodded. Noah nodded back, his shoulders settling. “Cool. I’m Bassanio. Scene two, we need two girls…”

Within thirty seconds, Noah had cast Celeste as Portia and Vanessa as her handmaiden Nerissa, and was offering them direction while they read through the scene. Most of the class was snickering as he interpreted Portia’s slams against her dopey suitors, but it was clearly laughing-with, not laughing-at.

“She totally doesn’t want to marry any of those douchebags!” said Xavier scornfully. “Isn’t she into Bassanio?”

The bell rang. They all stopped talking and looked at Mr. Tracy in surprise.

“Guess we’d better table that question for another day,” he said, walking over to Noah’s desk and closing the book of Shakespeare’s plays. There was a murmur, and a couple shouts of “Hey!”

“Can we do more tomorrow?” asked Vanessa.

Puck didn’t even glance at Mr. Tracy. “Hell, yeah, we can.”

After that, the class drifted away as usual, but Kurt could hear several kids arguing about the historical context of Jews in England and the interpretation of some of the lines. Brian paused beside Noah.

“I was reading ahead on my phone. Can I be Gratiano?” When Noah hesitated, he added, “Dude, this is the most fun we’ve had in this class all year. I’m totally not going to spoil it.”

“Okay,” said Noah. “I mean, sure, you can be Gratiano. He’s kind of my wingman.”

Kurt followed Noah out the door, not bothering to stop to talk to Mr. Tracy, even though he was making very clear questioning eyes at both of them.

“What… just happened in there?” he asked Noah slowly.

“I have no idea,” Noah said under his breath, “and I’m trying not to freak out about it.”

Kurt shrugged, feeling mystified. “I guess if you get slushied, we’ll know why? But I think, with Brian from football and Celeste from the Cheerios on board, you’re probably okay. So when did you do _Merchant of Venice_ , anyway?”

“I never did it.” Noah’s face was scornful. “And I never would. It’s totally anti-Semitic. Even when it’s done as commentary, it’s still awful. You think I’m wrong? We’ll get the movie version with Al Pacino from the library. You’ll see.”

Kurt paused at his locker. “I do want to see it, even if it’s just to figure out why Antonio is so sad.”

“Seriously?” Noah shook his head. “I can tell you that. It’s because he’s fucking in love with Bassanio.”

When he got home, Kurt read the entire play from cover to cover, and even read the Cliff’s notes about it after that, but he was still dubious about Noah’s interpretation of Antonio’s feelings for Bassanio. Noah showed up after dinner with the DVD, and they settled down in front of the big screen in the basement to watch.

“See?” said Noah, gesturing at [the way Antonio’s face lit up when he saw Bassanio arriving in the gondola](https://youtu.be/jbSpWZMdxGs?t=4m10s).  “Nobody looks at another guy like that unless he wants to bone him.”

“They’re supposed to be related,” Kurt argued.

“Cousins, second cousins, whatever. He’s still hot for him. Trust me, I know.” Noah took a handful of popcorn and threw a piece at the screen for emphasis. “I bet Bassanio knows it, too.”

“But he still has to get married to a girl, right?”

They both spun around to see Finn standing along the wall.

“I think that was expected at that time,” said Kurt. “No matter who he was sleeping with.”

Finn moved closer while Kurt offered him popcorn over the back of the couch. “I don’t think it’s so different now.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kurt curiously, but Finn shook his head and focused on the screen.

Noah had been right that the movie was hard to watch, for more than one reason. The character of Shylock was painfully twisted and angry, but in many ways he was the most sympathetic character of all. When, during the final courtroom scene, he was charged by the judge to convert to Christianity, Noah angrily thumbed the remote to turn the TV off and stood up.

“I’m sorry,” he fumed. “I can’t watch this shit anymore.”  

“Hey.” Kurt reached for his hand, but Noah was too far away, pacing back and forth between the couch and the closet under the stair.

“The thing that pisses me off most? People call this a _comedy._ Shylock was usually played as a comic villain. Yeah, let’s poke fun at the Jews in the ghetto. You don’t throw a Jewish guy into a room full of rich powerful Christians and trick him into submitting to his fucking oppressors and call it a fucking _comedy!”_

“Everything okay down there?” Kurt looked up to see his dad at the top of the stairs, his expression wary.

“It’s okay,” Finn called back. He made a little motion at Kurt toward Noah, and Kurt scrambled up from the couch to stand beside him. Kurt nodded confirmation to his dad that things were indeed okay. His dad still looked concerned, but he withdrew back up the stairs.

“Dude.” Noah squeezed his forehead in one hand and sighed. “Sorry. I should know better than to watch this stupid play.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing it in British Literature, then,” said Kurt.

“What do you mean?” Finn asked, but Noah shook his head.

“It’s okay. Mr. Tracy goes to my synagogue. I’m guessing he’s not gonna let the history part of the story go by without at least bringing it up.”

“You guys are doing a play?” Finn sounded a little hurt. “Since when?”

“It was just today. Noah and I did one scene and it kind of… spiraled from there. Our class liked it.” Kurt laughed and turned his body toward Noah’s. “Of course they would, when you did it like _that.”_

Noah moved out of Kurt’s personal space as quickly as Kurt moved into it. He shot one glance at Finn, who hadn’t even blinked, and headed for the stairs.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he called to Kurt before disappearing.

Kurt stared after him, then let out a loud sigh.

Finn shuffled his feet, looking at him unhappily. “Sorry to be in the way.”

“No, Finn, it’s not about you. This was about something else.” Kurt sighed. “Hell if I know what it was, though. He has… a complicated life.”

Finn gave him a thin, enigmatic smile. “Don’t we all?”

_ _

<https://youtu.be/jgcw0Xi4py8>

_the book I'm not reading is riveting_   
_the book I'm not reading keeps me up at night  
the book I'm not reading is better than TV at giving me insight_

_the book I'm not reading is history_   
_the book I'm not reading is by some paperback writer  
the book I'm not reading is a mystery, who done it don't matter_

_I need someone to read me stories_   
_someone to turn the page_   
_the endless quest for love and glory  
does not fade away with age_

_\- Patty Larkin, “The Book I’m Not Reading”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits:  
> "[The 26-Year-Old Bar Mitzvah Boy](http://www.monologuegenie.com/26-year-old-bar-mitzvah-boy-monologue.html)" from _Goodbye Charles_ , copyright 2012 by Gabriel Davis.
> 
> [The Merchant of Venice](http://shakespeare.mit.edu/merchant/merchant.1.1.html) by William Shakespeare, Act I, Scene 1.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quoting from [2x08 Furt](http://gleetranscripts.tumblr.com/post/13215909191/2x08-furt).

Brian did not seem to have blabbed about Noah’s impromptu _Merchant of Venice_ production in Brit Lit, because no one harassed them the next day. It seemed that the rest of the students had leapt on board the idea of doing the whole performance in class. In fact, a good portion of the class had scripts in their hand when Noah and Kurt walked in the next day. Celeste was scribbling a cast list on the whiteboard, busily assigning the smaller parts to students who were willing to take them.

Noah didn’t yell or scowl at anybody, but he didn’t talk to them, either, and no one approached him as he slouched over to one of the seats in the back row.

When the bell rang, Celeste looked over at Mr. Tracy, who shrugged and raised his voice for attention. “Class… I know the syllabus says we’re supposed to be focusing on _Hamlet_ before winter break, but in light of your recent interest in _The Merchant of Venice_ , I’m inclined to postpone it until later in the year. What say you all?”

“Huzzah?” said Xavier, and the rest of the class laughed, even those people who were clearly not interested in doing Shakespeare.

“And honestly,” Kurt said to Mercedes and Artie at lunch, after telling them about the production, “I always thought I _was_ one of those people. I’m a musical theater lover. All the metaphor and allegory of classical theater, it always seemed like too much _work._ And now…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m intrigued.”

“You can like both,” said Artie magnanimously, waving his fork. “You can be bi-theatrical.”

“Oh, ha ha. Trust me, I’m never going to stop loving Sondheim or Lloyd Webber.” He took a bite of carrot salad. “But I don’t know if I really want to do another summer musical with Mrs. Wright. I think I want to do a serious show. Maybe not Shakespeare, but… something.”

“Rachel goes to that summer music camp of hers,” said Mercedes. “Maybe you could do something like that.”

“Maybe.” Kurt wasn’t going to say _my dad could never afford that_ in front of Artie, no matter how nice he’d been to Noah after he got back from juvie.

 _But Noah can’t afford it either,_ said a persuasive voice in his head, _and he has a scholarship to Usdan. You could try for that, too._

The thought was still in his mind the next morning when his dad burst into his American history class, holding Carole’s hand. He looked so flushed, Kurt leapt to his feet, his throat constricting. _Not another heart attack,_ he thought, but of course that was stupid, considering his dad was standing right there, clearly feeling just fine.

“Can we borrow Kurt for a moment?” Carole said breathlessly.

Kurt followed them into the hall. Carole immediately thrust her hand under Kurt’s nose before his dad could say one word. Kurt squealed when he saw Carole’s diamond ring, then hugged each of them in turn.

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“Just now, right here,” said Carole. “Your dad dropped me off at work, the way he always does on Tuesdays…”

It wasn’t hard to feel good for them, especially considering how devoted they were to one another. Finn was less enthusiastic when they told him, but Kurt knew Finn well enough by now to know that he took a little time to throw his weight behind any new development. Not even Karofsky’s daily shoulder-check was enough to blunt Kurt’s good mood.

“I’m going to plan the whole wedding,” Kurt told Noah excitedly that night. They’d taken to walking through the park and across the railroad tracks to the reservoir, which tended to be deserted in the evening, or at least empty enough that they were able to steal private moments here and there. “Mr. Schue and Rachel both said they would take a half hour slot on stage to sing during the reception.”

“That’s cool,” said Noah. He detoured at the track crossing to walk parallel along the silent rails. “I’ll take one, too.”

“Really?” Kurt smiled. “That would be wonderful. I think I’m going to be too nervous to sing by myself.”

Noah waved him off. “You’re gonna be best man or something. That’s enough of a job. Let the rest of us handle the entertainment. Lemme guess: you’ve already got Carole’s dress picked out.”

“Three or four possibilities, anyway.”

“And the colors. And the catering.” Noah smirked. “What about the bachelor party?”

“Uh, _no.”_ Kurt stepped carefully along the rail, tiptoeing like it was a balance beam. “I am not throwing a party with booze and strippers for my father. I am remaining within our budget, and then my dad and Carole are taking the remaining money and going to Waikiki.”

Noah walked next to him in the gravel, watching him. “You think you want to get married someday?”

Kurt nodded. “I’ve dreamed about it ever since I was a little kid. Not that it’s legal right now in Ohio, but… maybe someday it will be?” When Noah didn’t respond, he added, “Not you, huh?”

When he slipped off the rail, Noah immediately shot out a hand to steady him. Kurt laughed.

“It’s not like it’s far to fall.”

“Yeah,” said Noah. “It is.”

It was hard not to ask for clarification, but he knew he’d get more out of Noah if he waited for Noah to offer it himself. Kurt managed to hold onto Noah’s hand, still walking on the rail, making him four inches taller than usual. It felt strange, but Noah’s hand didn’t waver.

“I know it sucks that your mom died,” Noah said eventually, “and I’m not saying it doesn’t, but… it also sucks to have to live through your mom falling _out_ of love with your dad. There’s a lot of shit that goes along with a lifetime commitment like that. I don’t think people are really made for it.”

“Sex shark?” Kurt murmured. Noah shot him a hurt glance.

“It’s not even about sex. It’s just… it’s hard to like the same person every day for that many years in a row.”

“I don’t know,” said Kurt. “I still like you after three?”

Noah’s eyes widened, and he stumbled on one of the wooden railroad ties, dropping Kurt’s hand. Kurt turned around and balanced while walking backward, facing him.

“That’s not what I’m… Kurt, you’re not —“

“I’m not,” Kurt said quickly. “Seriously, no. But I’m not going to give up on the idea of a lifetime of love, not just because I’m scared it won’t last. I mean, come on, don’t you sing about love all the time?”

“That doesn’t mean I believe in it,” Noah muttered. But then he shrugged, putting his hands into his pockets. “Okay, I guess I see what you mean.”

“What’s your favorite love song?”

“I don’t have one.” He grinned. “Well, maybe. Does Bon Jovi count?”

“Bon Jovi?”

“You remember. Rachel and the girls did it in Glee a couple weeks ago.” He sang with gritty enthusiasm while Kurt watched, laughing, and sang harmony on the chorus:

_We've gotta hold on to what we've got_   
_It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not_   
_We've got each other and that's a lot  
For love we'll give it a shot_

_Whoa, we're halfway there_   
_Whoa, livin' on a prayer_   
_Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear  
Whoa, livin' on a prayer_

“See, that’s the kind of love story I can believe in,” said Noah. “The ordinary kind. Dockworker and waitress, struggling to get by, not really expecting much from life, but they’ll take what they’ve got.”

“So what about Shakespeare’s kind of love?” asked Kurt. “Don’t you believe in that? You’ve read me plenty of love poetry and scenes from plays, and you sure had me convinced.”

“Isn’t that an actor’s job, to convince you?” asked Noah, but he looked away.

“I’ve always been a romantic, but I think I know the difference between what’s real and what’s pretend.” Kurt stopped walking and hopped down from the rail, facing Noah. “It’s real for me. How about you?”

“Yeah.” Noah didn’t hesitate, although his voice was soft. “It’s real for me. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to last.”

Kurt felt a stab of uneasiness in his gut. “You think you’re going to stop wanting me?”

“I think I don’t have any fucking clue what’s going to happen.” He sounded very matter-of-fact. “All I can do is take it day by day. I know how I felt yesterday, and how I feel today. Tomorrow? Who knows.”

Kurt shivered. He didn’t think it had anything to do with the chilly November air. “That sounds kind of scary. But it’s honest. I guess I have to appreciate that part.”

Noah put a hand out and pulled Kurt into his arms. It startled him, but it felt so good, and Noah was warm and unyielding and he smelled amazing.

“There’s no way I’m not gonna want you, Kurt,” he said into Kurt’s hair. His hands rested on the hem of his shirt under his coat, giving it a questioning tug.

“Let’s go someplace warmer if you’re going to undress me, please,” Kurt murmured.

Noah sighed, leaning against him, then stepped away, still holding his hand.

“Wish we had a place to go,” he said. “Other than the car. I want to take you back down to Dayton just so I can hold your hand without wondering who might notice.”

“I’d like that. Both the hand-holding and the opera house. Maybe we could look at the schedule of what shows are coming up.”

Kurt followed Noah as he turned and walked back toward his house.  

“I was thinking about… what we did in your truck the other day.”

Noah glanced at him briefly. “Yeah?”

“Kind of a lot.”  

“Well? You got a review for me, director?”

He smiled. “The plot was great, but the setting, not so much. I think for the sequel, we’re going to have to find a place with more horizontal surface area. And a shower.”

“Yeah.” Kurt listened to Noah’s measured inhalation and exhalation. “It kind of sucked, going to bed without you after that.”

“I know. I still think all the time about the night you came over and slept in my bed. The night Finn... called me some unfortunate names.”

Noah nodded. “Yeah. I think about that too.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t try something with me that night.”

“Really? You can’t believe that?” Noah sounded hurt. “Fuck you. I wasn’t about to take advantage of you. You were pissed at Finn and totally vulnerable. That would have been a sucky time to try something with anybody, even somebody I wasn't in love with.”

Kurt reached out and grabbed his arm. Noah pulled it away, but he stopped walking.

“I don’t mean it like that. I’m saying I wanted you to.”

“No, you didn’t,” Noah insisted. “Coming onto you like that would have put me firmly in dirtbag category. Even I know you deserve better than that.” His breathing was harsh. “You still do.”

“Noah,” he said, trying to reach for him, but Noah was keeping his distance. He put out a forestalling hand.

“Promise me, Kurt, someday, when you end up with some other guy, that you won’t ever let him take advantage of you like that. _Ever.”_ His gaze was as fierce and focused as it had ever been in the midst of a monologue. “Promise!”

“Okay, okay!” cried Kurt. He fought his way past Noah’s hand and into his arms. He could feel Noah shaking, whether from anger or something else, Kurt didn’t know. “I promise,” he added, more calmly. “Seriously, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” He said it again, maybe to convince himself: “I know you can.”

With a furtive glance at the road, Noah tugged Kurt off the railroad tracks and into the brush beside the curb. Then he buried his hands in Kurt’s hair and kissed him, hard.

It was a quick journey from passionate kisses to Noah grinding against him, holding Kurt’s ass firmly in both hands. Just listening to the noises Noah was making was enough to take him halfway there.

“God,” groaned Kurt, “we are not doing this here. _Noah.”_ He squirmed at the feeling of Noah’s hand cupping him through his pants. “Get a grip.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do! _”_

Kurt stumbled back, both of them laughing — until Kurt looked up and saw exactly who was sitting in the passenger seat of the car driving by. His insides turned to ice.

“Noah,” he whispered. “That was Dave Karofsky.”

Noah squinted after the disappearing car as it turned a corner. “You sure?”

“I’m positive.”

They looked at one another. Then they resumed the walk home, this time a little more slowly. The cushion of air between them now seemed impenetrable. When Kurt would make a move toward Noah, he’d move an equal distance away.

“This is bullshit,” snapped Kurt finally.

“I know.” Noah sounded just as miserable as he felt.

When they reached Noah’s truck, parked half a street down the block from Kurt’s house, they both stopped, but Kurt didn’t make a move toward the passenger door. Noah didn’t look like was in any mood to come inside, but Kurt asked anyway. “My room’s better than nothing?”

“Jerking off over the phone with you was better than nothing,” said Noah, his words clipped. “Being in your room without being able to close the door is, like, the biggest cocktease in the world.”

Kurt tried not to feel hurt, but he nodded, continuing up the sidewalk.

“Wait.” Noah sighed. “Fuck it. Just… come over to my house.”

“Your sister’s there.”

“She would watch TV in the family room if I asked. My ma won’t be back from work until after one in the morning.” He put a hand on the driver’s side door, then added, with exaggerated gentleness, “Please.”

Kurt gave him a dubious look. “You hate it when I come over to your house. You must be really desperate.”

“Maybe. I’m not gonna deny it, but… it’s probably not in the way you mean.” Noah opened the door and climbed in. “Just text me if you decide to come.”

Kurt didn’t watch Noah driving away, even though nobody was around. Really, the damage had already been done. He should have been surprised it had taken Karofsky this long to catch a glimpse of what was going on between the two of them. He didn’t want to think about how much that worried him.

He even considered bringing it up with Carole and his dad, but when he came into the house, the dining room table was spread with wedding invitations. He just didn’t have the heart to bother them with his ongoing crisis.

 _It’s not like I haven’t been bullied by him for years,_ he thought, and headed downstairs to find Finn. _This just adds another layer to the meaning behind the menace._

Finn was on the couch in front of the television, which was off. When Kurt took a seat beside him, Finn gave him an uneasy smile. The experience of being around him wasn’t one hundred percent ordinary yet, but he could tell Finn was trying. That counted for something.

“You okay?” asked Finn.

Kurt shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you do when the person you like is dangerous for you?”

Finn’s reaction was unexpected. He folded into himself on the couch, his arm encircling one knee, and eyed Kurt warily. “Why? What makes you say that?”

Kurt tried not to get defensive in return. “Somebody’s bound to find out. It’s not going to be good for him.”

Finn’s eyes traveled up the stairs, then back down to rest on Kurt. Now his expression was a little wild. “How did _you_ figure it out?”

“What do you mean?” He’d been prepared to tell Finn about Karofsky’s drive-by, but it seemed like Finn was thinking of something else entirely.

“I only talked to Quinn. Oh, jeez, she didn’t tell you, did she?” Finn put both hands on his face and groaned. “I really thought I could trust her after everything—”

“Finn, relax. What are you talking about?” He reached out and touched Finn’s arm, and Finn jumped about a foot in the air. “Hey, Quinn didn’t tell me anything.”

“Nothing?” With an effort, Finn put his hands back in his lap. “Oh. Okay.”

“Well, you can’t just leave it like that now!” When Finn tried to pull away and stand up, Kurt jerked him back to a sitting position. “Come on. How did I figure what out?”

“I —“ Finn was staring fixedly at his jiggling leg. “I really meant to tell you sooner,” he said at last.

_“What?”_

He cringed. “I told you before there was… somebody. Somebody who — I didn’t want them to see me on stage in my tighty-whities during Rocky Horror.”

 _Them._ Finn was playing the pronoun game. Kurt tried to keep his face even. “Yes. I assumed it was Quinn.”

Finn shook his head, his too-long bangs falling into his eyes as he kept his head down. “Quinn’s been great, but… no. It’s not her.”

Kurt nodded carefully. “Is — is it Sam?”

Now Finn’s head jerked up, startled. “No! No, I’m pretty sure he, uh.” He shook his head emphatically. “No. Not Sam.”

“It would be okay if it was Sam, Finn.”

“I know,” he moaned. “I know you of _all_ people would be fine with it, and — I think I’m just not ready to tell anybody else. Wasn’t ready.” His shoulders drooped. “I guess I’m kind of telling you now, anyway.”

“You are?”

“I think so. But can you, like turn around while I tell you? I don’t think I can say it if I can see your reaction.”

Kurt did not roll his eyes as he faced away from Finn, and he bit his tongue on all the other guesses he was already making. _Not Noah,_ he prayed, _don’t let it be Noah._

“Okay,” said Finn. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not!”

“It’s… [Michael. Michael Lewis](http://nubianamy.tumblr.com/post/145083626004/oc-in-those-magic-changes).”  

Now he did turn back around to stare at Finn. “Michael in _jazz band_ Michael? The senior who’s had the lead in every summer musical?”

“Plays awesome guitar, sings better than Artie.” Finn sounded glum. “Barely knows I exist. I know you think he’s stuck up and cares about being popular and everything.”

“That’s totally not true.” Kurt gave him a speculative look. “Okay, maybe he is kind of a lot like Quinn. I can see you have a type. Except tall and redheaded. And _male._ ”

“I know,” Finn whispered. “I really really know.”

“Do you even know if he plays for… my team?”

“No. It so doesn’t matter.”

He looked so resigned to this that Kurt didn’t have the heart to grill Finn about exactly which team _he_ was now playing for. “Thank you for telling me. Can I tell you something too?”

“I seriously don’t need any more details about your sex life with Puck.”

“No, this is… it’s somebody else. Dave Karofsky.”

Finn looked stunned. “You have a sex life with Dave Karofsky?”

“No!” Kurt pressed a hand to his forehead. “A couple weeks ago. I cornered him in the locker room and called him on the way he’d been treating me. And he completely lost his cool, and then he _kissed_ me.”

“Ew.” But Finn was almost smiling. “You’re a total badass, Kurt. And I guess I did see that coming. Remember I used to be friends with Dave, when we were kids? There was… stuff.”

Kurt shuddered. “I would appreciate never being told about any of it.”

“It’s a deal.” Finn hesitated. “Thanks for not laughing. And for not being mad at me for not telling you about… this Michael thing. I would hug you if you don’t think it would feel too weird.”

“Let’s assume any hugs we have are always going to be the brotherly kind,” Kurt agreed.

He let Finn hug him. It _was_ a little weird, but he could tell Finn already felt a lot better after spilling his guts, which made up for it.

“So… why are you so sure things with Michael would never fly? You’re both performers, you’re both on the basketball team. He’s not completely out of your league.”

“I don’t know what it is, Kurt.” Finn’s face was already red. “I just know I can’t talk to him without turning into a stupid idiot. He’s got this whole clever-funny thing going on, and I am _so_ not clever or funny. I feel… totally outclassed just being in the same room with him. Plus he’s always surrounded by a group of girls.”

“See, that bodes well for being gay, though,” Kurt pointed out. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend. I bet Noah could run reconnaissance with Santana and find out any gossip about him.”

“No!” Finn yelped. “I’m not. He’s — I can’t.” He was already retreating into the circle of his own arms. “Please don’t make this a thing, Kurt. I don’t want to be your project. There’s a reason I haven’t told Rachel.”

Kurt was a little taken aback being compared with Rachel, but he nodded soberly. “I understand. I won’t push you to do anything. But you can talk to me, okay? Any time.” He paused. “Uh… does that mean I should un-ask him to play guitar at the wedding?”

“Jesus,” Finn muttered. Then he sighed. “No. It’s okay. I’ve gotten pretty good at ignoring him.”

Kurt grinned. “Even when he played with the girls during their mashup? In leather? Trust me, I noticed.”

“I don’t care about leather. I think…” He squirmed a little on the couch. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to you. I just think he looks best in, you know. Regular clothes.”

Kurt relented, although it was with a measure of regret. Finn was just so _easy_ to tease about everything. This would have afforded him hours of entertainment. “How about we talk about something else for a while? You want to go over the timing for the performances during the ceremony?”

Finn eyed him. “I’m kind of surprised you’re not hanging out with Puck. You’re never here anymore.”

“I might go over to his house later,” he said, tasting the words on his own tongue to see if they felt like lies. He could have added _we want to have privacy for sex,_ but Finn had said he didn’t want to hear about that.

By the time he and Finn had thoroughly outlined the musical plan for both the ceremony and the reception, Kurt had decided he was going to Noah’s. He didn’t even feel guilty about being vague about his destination when he told his father he was heading out.

“Be back by eleven,” was the only thing his dad said, not looking up from the wedding invitations.

But when Kurt texted Noah on the way over, there was no reply. Noah still hadn’t texted back by the time he arrived. He parked the Navigator in the driveway and approached the mismatched, shoddy house with some trepidation. The last time he’d been there, after Noah had returned from juvie, Noah had told him to get the hell out. Kurt still wondered exactly what the other boys had done to Noah in juvie to cause him to push Kurt away like that, but Noah had never told him details, and fulfilling his curiosity was less important to him than making sure Noah felt safe.

No one responded to his tentative knock at the front door, either, but Kurt could hear the television playing in Noah and Sarah’s bedroom. He went around the side of the house, picking his way through the scrubby, overgrown yard, and managed to get close enough to the window to tap on it. Sarah leapt up from Noah’s bed, her eyes huge and scared, but once she saw Kurt through the grimy glass, she waved and headed out of the room at a run. He met her back on the front porch.

“Noah went to the store,” she said, leaning on the door frame.

“Do you think it would be okay for me to come in while he’s not home?”

“I don’t know. Probably. You’re not a stranger.” Sarah grinned Noah’s grin, and Kurt had to grin back. She made room for him to squeeze inside around the piles of boxes and paper bags and junk mail. “Did you bring cupcakes like you did that one time?”

“No cupcakes, sorry. Maybe another day I will, though.”

The house looked worse than it had the last time he’d been there. He wasn’t all that surprised to see that most of the piles were identical to the way they’d looked two years ago, with a slightly thicker layer of dust on top.

“Where did all this stuff come from?” Kurt asked. He never quite felt like he could venture into questions about the house with Noah, but Sarah just shrugged.

“It’s my Ma’s, I guess. It’s always been here.”

He paused outside the door to Noah and Sarah’s room, which was comparatively barren, and surveyed the hallway. “Is that your mom’s room?”

“Yeah, at the end.”

“And that one?”

“That’s the music room.”

He paused. “Noah has a music room?”

“No, it’s Ma’s. All her instruments are in there.”

That brought up more questions than he was willing to ask, so he just nodded. “She works nights at the hospital?”

“Her shift changes through the week. She has a double on Tuesdays, then Wednesdays off, and another double on Saturdays.”

“She’s home all day every Wednesday?”

She made a face. “Yeah. It sucks, especially in the summer. We mostly end up bunburying on those days.”

“ _Bunburying?_ ” Kurt repeated slowly. Sarah nodded, grinning.

“You know, like in that Oscar Wilde play, _The Importance of Being Earnest._ ” She looked mystified when he shook his head. “You don’t know that? Weird. Okay, so, the guy Algy sometimes has to have dinner with his aunt or whatever, and it’s a big pain, right? So he pretends he has a sick friend, Bunbury, and whenever he needs to get away, he says he’s going to visit him, but he really does other stuff.”

“I get it.” He nodded. “You do it too?”

“I read to Mrs. Gustafson at the nursing home on Wednesdays after school.” She made air quotes around the sentence.

“What do you really do?”

She shrugged. “Go to the library. Ride my bike. Anything but be here.”

“You could come to my house sometimes, if you wanted.”

Kurt wasn’t sure if that was too much to offer, but Sarah looked more grateful than uncomfortable at the suggestion. “Thanks. You want to watch Biggest Loser?”

He actually wanted to go check out Noah’s mother’s music room, but he nodded, following her into the bedroom. Belatedly, he added, “Unless you have homework.”

Sarah settled down cross-legged on Noah’s bed. “Noah says homework is for pussies.”

When he heard Noah returning home, Kurt just stayed where he was and waited for Noah to find him there. Noah didn’t look surprised to see Kurt on his bed, but he wasn’t smiling either. He stood in the doorway holding a plastic shopping bag, looking between Sarah and Kurt.

“Sar,” he said, “you think you could watch in Ma’s room for a while?”

She obligingly hopped up and gave Kurt a little wave. “Later.”

As soon as Sarah had disappeared, Noah shut the door behind her. He bent down to the television and turned it off. Then he moved to the bed, reaching over Kurt to close the blinds. Without taking his eyes off Kurt, he climbed onto the bed and knelt over him, kissing him as he pressed him down to the bed.

“Uh,” said Kurt, laughing, “hi?” He waved a useless arm. “No words tonight?”

“No,” said Noah. He still wasn’t smiling.

Kurt wasn’t particularly inclined to solicit more of an explanation. Having Noah on top of him like that felt so good. He stretched out, wrapping his arms around Noah’s broad back, and moaned quietly as he felt Noah’s erection pressing against him through his jeans.

“I wanna fuck you,” Noah whispered.

“So romantic,” Kurt whispered back, but his body was already tingling all over.

Noah sat back on his heels. Now he _was_ smiling. He took off his t-shirt, then slowly started on his zipper. It was all very deliberate, almost like a strip show, but Noah wasn’t trying to play it up. He was just watching Kurt as he did it.

“You want me to...?” Kurt asked. His hands moved to the buttons on his shirt, but Noah shook his head.

“I want to do it.”

“Okay.” He stayed where he was, propped up on his elbows, feeling the arousal spread. It went to his neck and toes and all the other parts of his body he never expected to be affected when he was turned on, but around Noah, they definitely were.

As Noah took off his clothes, Kurt began to feel more and more inadequate. There was something particularly intimidating about _seeing_ just how muscular and fit Noah was. He could definitely relate to what Finn had been telling him about the way he felt around Michael.

“I’m sorry I’m not, you know,” he said at last. Noah was removing Kurt’s pants, one careful tug at a time, and he paused to look at him. Kurt laughed unhappily. “Uh… my body. I’m sorry I don’t… look like you.”

Noah stared at him. “You think I want somebody who looks like me?”

“Well, I don’t know. I think… you got somebody who looks like me. There’s not much I can do about that.”

Noah shook his head, smiling to himself. He reached down and ran a hand over Kurt’s leg, from the hip to the knee.

“At first I loved you only for your face,” he said.

Kurt took a breath to protest, but Noah was going on, and he could tell by the pacing of the words that they were not his own.

“And later, love - less frivolous / Like a bird that spreads its wings, but cannot fly / Arrested by your beauty, by your soul / Drawn close — I loved for both at once.”

Kurt licked his lips. “What’s that?”

“ _Cyrano._ ” Noah moved his hand to Kurt’s chin, his cheek, and leaned in to kiss him, gently this time. “My favorite. Or in the top five, anyway.”

He was having trouble keeping his eyes open, Noah’s touch was so intoxicating. “I remember. You did it the summer you were Puck in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream._ I wish I could have seen you play Cyrano.”

“I’ll do it again, someday.” Now both of Noah’s hands were cupping his face, turning it to the side to kiss his neck, under his chin. Kurt let out a shaky breath.

“I like it.”

Noah looked at him for a moment, then reached over to turn off the light. It wasn’t really dark enough to prevent him from seeing, but Kurt almost asked him to turn it back on, because the details of Noah were something he didn’t want to miss. Then he heard Noah’s words, coming at him through the darkness of the room, landing just as surely as his hands on his skin.

“In the tender, sheltering dusk / I dare to be myself for once, at last.” He paused, sounding uncertain. “What say I? I know not! — Oh, pardon me / It thrills me, ‘tis so sweet, so novel… to be at last sincere / Till now, my chilled heart, fearing to be mocked / for its mad beating!”

His language flowed as naturally as ordinary conversation. Kurt knew that came less from talent than from long practice and experience. When Noah said lines from a play, they didn’t sound the way he usually spoke -- and that didn’t matter. They weren’t _his_ words, but somehow that didn’t make them seem any less honest. It almost made them more.

“Ay, my heart has clothed itself, with witty words, / To shroud itself from curious eyes,” he went on. “Impelled / At times to aim at a star, I stay my hand, / And, fearing ridicule, cull a wildflower!” He moved in close, close enough to rest a hand on Kurt’s chest. “But to-night…” He began to unbutton Kurt’s shirt.

“Tonight?” said Kurt.

Noah’s fingers brushed against the exposed skin, tracing the curve of his collarbone. He bent forward and placed a kiss there.

“To-night,” whispered Noah, “the star.”

Kurt exhaled and tipped his head back, arching into Noah’s touch. His eyes had adjusted enough now that he could see more details of Noah again. All of them were compelling. When he ran a hand down the center of Noah to grasp him through his briefs, Noah deflected it.

“Don’t want to come first tonight,” he said. “But that means you’re gonna have to let me drive.”

It seemed a little unfair that Noah got to do all the touching, but he sat patiently, enjoying the attention Noah was giving to his shoulders, his sternum, the inside of his elbow. When Noah kissed his nipple, he let out a little _ohh,_ which turned into an embarrassingly loud noise as Noah used his tongue to apply soft, wet pressure.

“That — feels so much better than I ever expected it would,” Kurt said, his voice coming out strangled.

Noah’s chuckle was dark and satisfied. “You can have my mouth anywhere you want it.”

That was a more tempting possibility than Kurt had expected it be, especially when Noah knelt between his legs. Whatever fantasies he’d ever had about Noah using his mouth, they were definitely more appealing when he was too turned on to care about the squick factor.

But Noah didn’t seem to be interested in using his mouth. He rustled through the shopping bag, bringing out some items and putting them on the bed. Kurt heard him snap open a bottle of lube.

“Just tell me if it’s too much,” Noah said.

“I — was thinking I should turn over,” said Kurt. “On my knees?”

Noah stopped moving, his breath going still. “Fuck. Is — is that what you want?”

“I think so. It’s… the way we do it, when I… when I think about it.”

“Then yeah,” he said hoarsely. “We should totally do that. But first, let me… hang on.”

He leaned over Kurt and kissed him, using his knee to nudge Kurt’s legs open wider. Kurt’s body was definitely interested in what Noah was doing. He wondered what Noah would think if he started touching himself. Then Noah’s fingers rested against his hole, tentatively rubbing, pressing into him, and Kurt hungrily kissed him harder, moaning encouragement.

“More,” he said, and Noah nodded.

He helped Kurt turn over and get on his knees, resting his face on Noah’s pillow. It smelled a lot like him, maybe a little more than would have been appealing ordinarily, but in the moment it was just one more huge turn-on. He rubbed his face shamelessly against the pillow and inhaled.

“God… you make me want things I _never_ thought I wanted.”

“Yeah.” Noah’s voice was low and rich. “I totally get it.”

Noah reached around to touch the front of Kurt, not to stroke him as he’d expected, but just to run his hands all over him. Noah’s deft fingers were discovering what felt like every little sensitive spot on his body, and Kurt felt himself opening, yearning for Noah, wanting everything all at once.

“Do you think people say awful things in porn movies because they don’t have better words to use?” He reached in between his own legs and felt Noah’s hardness there, and reveled in the sound of Noah’s gasp as he dragged it through the lubrication on his skin. “I just want to tell you to — to do things to me.”

“You can do that, if you want, Kurt. You can tell me anything.”

“But I wish… I want better words. Your words… they touch parts of me.” He whined, pressing Noah against him harder, but Noah pulled away. “I wish I could do that to you.”

“Oh my god, Kurt. You _do.”_ He heard the sound of the bottle of lube open again, and the slick friction of Noah applying it to himself. Kurt made a desperate grinding motion back against Noah’s hand, his dick, whatever was available. “Everything you say turns me on. Just listening to your voice gets me off so hard.”

Noah’s fingers entered him again. Then they disappeared, and Kurt felt something else, something bigger replacing them. He hissed at the stretch.

“Wait,” he begged.

Noah did, right where he was. “You want me to stop?”

“No, no, just…” Kurt took a careful breath. “Talk to me.”

This time Noah did reach around and stroke him. Kurt could feel the burn in the tight pucker of his hole, clenching around the head of Noah’s dick, but the pain was already beginning to ease. He made an experimental backward thrust, letting his body accommodate the girth of Noah.

“The feeling / Which fills me,” murmured Noah, “terrible and jealous, truly / Love — which is ever sad amid its transports! / Love — and yet, strangely, not a selfish passion! / I for your joy would gladly lay mine own down, / E’en though you never were to know it, never! / If but at times I might, far off and lonely, / Hear some gay echo of the joy I bought you.”

Kurt laughed despite himself. “I’ll give you a gay echo.”

Noah snorted amusement. He still hadn’t moved, but Kurt could feel, with each careful backward thrust he made, the pulse of Noah inside him.

“Each glance of thine awakes in me a virtue, / A novel, unknown valour.” He rested a hand in the center of Kurt’s back. “Dost begin, sweet, / To understand? So late, dost understand me?”

The unexpected endearment, _sweet,_ made his heart leap. “Yes — yes.”

Very steadily, carefully, Noah pulled back, and as he pushed forward, Kurt realized just how much of Noah he’d already taken. “Feel’st thou my soul, here, through the darkness mounting?”

“Oh, your soul? Is that what they call it?” He held his breath as Noah pulled out, almost entirely, and thrust into him again. “Oh, god. Yeah. I feel it.”

“Too fair the night,” said Noah. His voice was tender, not sounding like Cyrano’s now, but simply his own. “Too fair, too fair the moment / That I should speak thus, and that you should hearken. Too fair.”

He reached out to capture Kurt’s right hand and brought it around to rest on his inner thigh. Kurt wrapped it around his own erection, and Noah whispered, “Yeah, do that,” before grasping Kurt’s hips with both hands and setting up a steady rhythm: out almost all the way, then slowly sliding in deeper than before, and finally, just as slowly, pulling out again. Part of him wanted to ask Noah to speed up, but mostly he just felt overwhelmed, and grateful that Noah was taking care of him like this.

“In moments when my hopes rose proudest, / I never hoped such guerdon. Nought is left me / But to die now.”  Noah’s voice dropped to a growl that made Kurt’s stomach clench. “Have words of mine the power / To make you tremble?”

“Yes.” He felt Noah hit something sensitive inside, something that made him clutch at the edge of Noah’s pillow with one hand and stroke himself more firmly with the other. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Ay, like a leaf amongst the leaves, you tremble!” Noah was definitely moving faster now, his measured syllables breaking into grunts. “Fuck, Kurt, is that too much? Can I—?”

He absolutely understood why Noah had demanded for Kurt to _do_ him. All he wanted was to feel Noah’s body slapping up against him, thrusting him into his waiting hand. “It’s not too much,” he gasped. “You can — please.” And Noah did it harder, and he begged again, “Harder.”

“If I do it any harder, I’m gonna come,” Noah warned.

Kurt mashed his face into the pillow and let himself stop worrying about the state of Noah’s sheets or making too much noise or wanting to ask for things he thought he would _never_ say out loud. He said it in his head, repeating it until it came bursting out of his mouth: “Fuck me _harder.”_

Noah was out of words, but he did as Kurt asked, hard enough to make him gasp. He kept going until Kurt felt his knees buckle and he slumped forward onto the bed.

“You want the dildo?”

“W-what?”

“I’m done.” Noah sounded apologetic. “You need more, it’s gonna be my fingers or that big-ass dildo.”

“No,” he said, although his body apparently liked that possibility. “I’m done too.”

“Oh. Fuck, Kurt, why didn’t you say?” Noah slid out of Kurt, letting him settle into a moist heap on the mattress before climbing over beside him to collapse.

“It kept feeling good. I didn’t want you to stop.” He could feel the way his own thighs were twitching in reaction. Then he reached for Noah, putting his arms around his sweaty back and pulling him close. Noah closed his arms over Kurt’s, and they clung to each other for a long moment.

“So…” Noah cleared his throat. “Was it… okay?”

“It was so, _so_ good,” he promised. “All of it. The words, the — you, inside me, and the way you let me, um, help.”

“Good.” Noah placed kiss after kiss on his cheek. “And yeah. All of it.”

Kurt watched Noah deal with the condom. He wondered if he should be concerned about the amount of talking they hadn’t done about STDs, but it didn’t exactly seem like the appropriate time to bring it up.

Noah’s hands felt a little sticky when he returned to lie down beside Kurt, but so were his own, and he really didn’t want to stop touching Noah, or being touched. He didn’t even care about being in the center of the considerable wet spot.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Which, seriously, seems completely inadequate compared to all the words you just said.”

“No, babe.” Noah kissed him again. “There’s nothing about you that’s even a little bit inadequate.”

He shifted to rest his head on Noah’s shoulder. “I hope none of that bothered Sarah. I don’t want her to feel weird about me being here.”

“She’s the one who told me I was being weird about _not_ inviting you over.” Noah exhaled, and Kurt breathed with him as they relaxed. “I think the bathroom is gonna be too gross for your standards, though. You might want to shower at home.”

Kurt sighed. “I guess. But I’m not ready to leave just yet. Can we just lie here for a while?”

“Long as you want.”

It would have been easy to say _always,_ or _forever,_ or something like that, but Kurt remembered the conversation they’d had about marriage, and kept his mouth shut.

It didn’t take long for Karofsky to make it clear what he’d seen on the road by the train tracks. He cornered Kurt against his locker, eying the cake topper Kurt was holding.

“That doesn’t look anything like you and Puckerman,” he murmured.

“It’s not supposed to.” Kurt shrank away from him. “And I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

Karofsky’s eyebrows went up. He plucked the topper out of Kurt’s fingers. “Can I have this, then?”

He sauntered away down the hall, but Mr. Schue had seen it — and he wasn’t the only one. Kurt sat through a useless meeting with Schue and Principal Sylvester before he managed to find time to answer Noah’s six outraged texts.

_Yes, I’m fine, and he didn’t touch me, and no, I don’t need you to beat him up for me. You getting put back in juvie would be worse than being assaulted by Karofsky. Promise me you won’t do it._

_I promise,_ came Noah’s reply. _That doesn’t mean I won’t piss him off in sixteen other ways._

_Noah, just leave him alone. You of all people should know why he does what he does. He needs something none of us can give him._

Kurt didn’t expect the rest of the guys in Glee to get together and confront Karofsky on their own. Sam got a good punch in the eye for his trouble. Other than Noah, Finn was the only one who stayed out of it.

“I didn’t feel good about not being there,” Finn told him afterwards while they waited for his dad to arrive. “They’re all mad at me because I didn’t help. I just… I can’t.” He pleaded at Kurt with his eyes to understand.

“You don’t have to apologize, Finn. I didn’t want any of the rest of them to take on Karofsky either.” He gave Finn an encouraging smile. “Come on. It’s time for your dance lessons. You’re going to dance with your mom at this wedding.”

It made Kurt feel a little sick to see Karofsky pause in the doorway, watching him dancing with Finn, but his dad was the only one to mention it. “What the hell was that?”

“It was nothing,” muttered Kurt.

“That wasn’t nothing. That guy was making fun of you.”

Finn nodded at him. “Tell him, Kurt, or I will.”

“Tell me _what?”_

Kurt sighed. “Dave Karofsky. I told you, he’s been harassing me for a few weeks now.”

His dad looked completely pissed now. “You didn’t tell me about that. Harassing you how?”

“Just… shoving me, and giving me a hard time.” He shied away from his dad’s piercing look.

“What else?”

“He — he threatened to kill me.”

Finn’s eyes went wide. “What? You’ve got to be kidding me. Does Puck know?”

“No, and you’re not going to tell him, either.” But his dad was already heading down the hall after Karofsky. They took off after him at a run.

They found him shoving Dave up against the bulletin board, his arm against Dave’s neck. Dave looked more confused than scared.

“You like picking on people?” his dad snarled. “You try me.”

“Please,” Kurt begged, “you’re sick. Come on.”

They pulled him off while Dave escaped, but his dad clearly wasn’t letting this go.

“Where’s Puckerman been while this has been going on, huh?” he demanded.

“He’s on probation,” said Kurt quietly. “I told him not to help. And Finn —“

He glanced over at Finn, who looked a little ill. His dad just shook his head.

“We are going to your principal right now. This ends here. You are _not_ going to be treated this way at your own school.”

They met with Principal Sylvester and Dave and Mr. Karofsky and explained the situation. To Kurt's shock, Principal Sylvester actually agreed with his dad that he'd done something heinous. Within ten minutes, Dave had been expelled.

It seemed almost impossible that it could be over as easily as that. Kurt paused outside the principal’s office and took a moment to regroup.

“Can you take the Navigator home?” he asked Finn, putting the keys into his hand. “I want to tell Noah about this in person.”

Finn nodded. “I’m really sorry it got like that, Kurt. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“None of us do.” He looked up into Finn’s face. “But it’s not going to stop until other kids start coming out.”

Finn took a step back, looking alarmed. “You mean — me?”

“I mean you, and all the other boys and girls at McKinley who are questioning their orientation.” _And Noah,_ he added in his head, but neither he nor Finn said it out loud.

Finn ran a hand through his hair. “You really think it would make a difference? To other people, I mean?”

“I think it would make a _huge_ difference,” Kurt said firmly. “But maybe that’s not enough of a reason to do it. I didn’t come out for anybody else. I did it for myself. I think you should wait until it feels like you’re doing that.”

He left Finn to process that on his own and sent a text to Noah. _If I start walking toward your house, would you come pick me up?_

_I’m already here._

Kurt paused on the steps of the school and glanced around the parking lot until he saw Noah’s truck, idling by the school sign. _How did you know?_

_Your dad called me._

He hurried over to the truck and climbed inside, not even watching for who might see them together.

“My dad?” he repeated incredulously.

Noah’s face was stony. “Yeah, well, he shared with me some _other_ things Dave said to you. You didn’t think to mention he’d threatened to _kill_ you?”

“You know what would have happened. And then you would be back in juvie for assault, instead of sitting in the parking lot waiting to pick me up.”

“He _also_ mentioned Dave said you made it all up. Because, and I quote, ‘Maybe he likes me.’” His hands went out and hit the steering wheel, hard enough to make Kurt jump. “Assault’s too good for him. He’d better watch it tomorrow.”

“He won’t have to. He’s been expelled.”

Noah’s eyes went wide. “No way.”

“Yes.” Kurt broke into a laugh, throwing his head back with a tremendous sigh as Noah took his hand. “I feel a million times better already. I didn’t even realize how much I was worrying about seeing him every day.”

“Your dad didn’t happen to mention that part.” He put the truck into gear and gunned the engine, peeling out of the parking lot fast enough to make the tires screech on the pavement.

Kurt squeezed his hand. “You can slow down. I’d rather you not get pulled over. Or crash your truck.”

“There’s only so many legal ways to blow off energy.” The look Noah shot him was full of intention. “Can you think of any others?”

“Not that we can do in your truck during daylight,” he said regretfully, smiling.

“Well.” Noah smiled back. “I think if your dad’s calling me up to enlist me in defending your honor, I can assume he doesn’t think I’m a total loser.”

“Or at least you’re better than nothing?” Kurt added brightly. When Noah laughed out loud, Kurt beamed at him.

“Yeah,” Noah said softly. “That’s the smile I’ve been missing.”

“I guess I haven’t been smiling all that much.”

“Well, fuck, babe. I think you had an excuse.”

Noah dropped him off at his house, along with a series of furtive, apologetic kisses. “Don’t tell me you have homework?” said Kurt.

“You want me to lie or make something up?”

Kurt cocked his head. “What’s the difference?”

“Well, according to Steinbeck, _a story has in it neither gain nor loss. But a lie is a device for profit or escape.”_ He grinned. “So a story’s only a lie if you’re making money from it.”

Kurt smoothed away his smile under a thoughtful hand. “What about _bunburying?”_

“Definitely a lie.” Noah looked pleased by the reference. “Some people think that word had something to do with gay sex, but it probably didn’t. Not that Oscar Wilde wasn’t having shitloads of gay sex on the side.”

Kurt leaned over until his face was inches from Noah’s. “You’re not going to tell me what you’re doing, are you.”

“You’ll find out.” He attempted a kiss, but Kurt pulled away before they could make contact. Noah just shrugged and waited while Kurt climbed out of the truck, then drove away.

Five minutes later, Kurt received a text. _I’m not off somewhere having shitloads of gay sex, at least._

_No, I didn’t think you were having gay sex with anybody but me._

_You’ll find out what I’m doing soon. I promise it’ll be worth the wait._

Kurt wasn’t thrilled with having to live with that, but he wasn’t going to punish Noah for having other plans, especially not ones that sounded so intriguing. _Can I call you later and read to you, at least?_

_Yeah? The defender of your honor gets a bedtime story?_

Kurt smiled. _You didn’t beat Karofsky up, but you’re still my hero._

 _That is about the lamest thing anybody’s ever said to me._ And then, after another few minutes: _Okay, fuck it, I loved it._

_I know._

_ _

[ _https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQUe-i3cooI_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQUe-i3cooI)

_Walking on the railroad rails_   
_Leaning into one another_   
_Balancing so we won't fail  
Into timeless friends and lovers_

_We're still holding hands_   
_Past the place I quit before_   
_On this high trestle span  
The distance down is what we must ignore_

_Balance is no harder after all_   
_Out across this bridge so tall_   
_Balance is no harder_   
_It's just that you've got farther  
Now you've just got farther to fall_

_\- David Wilcox, “Farther to Fall”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits:
> 
> “[Livin’ on a Prayer](https://youtu.be/lDK9QqIzhwk)” copyright 1986 by Bon Jovi.
> 
> [Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand, translation by A.S. Kline copyright 2003, Act 4](http://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/French/Cyranoact4.htm).


	4. Chapter 4

Planning for the wedding seemed to happen slowly, but their class mini-production of _The Merchant of Venice_ came together almost immediately. Celeste had taken over most of the practical aspects, including establishing a rudimentary set of stage directions for each scene to be set in various corners of the room. She would often come to Noah for advice, however, which occasionally seemed to make him pleased and occasionally suspicious.

Kurt was sitting three seats away when she set her tray across from him at lunch on Wednesday. “What do you think is Portia’s motivation when she gives Bassanio that ring?” she asked, without even saying hello.

Noah glanced down the row at Finn and Sam, who looked mystified, before turning back to her. “You’re asking me to think at lunch? Isn’t that against the law or something?”

“Like you need to think about this. Come on, you know _everything_ about this play.” She looked impatient.

“Why do you care?” he snapped.

She gave him a patented Cheerios _duh_ look. “Because I’m not an _idiot_ and I actually want to learn things at school.”

Kurt could tell Noah was close to freaking out. “People have given rings as a symbol of commitment for hundreds of years,” Kurt interjected.

“No, but... look, when she gives him the ring, Portia says she’s putting herself and all her property under Bassanio’s control.” Celeste pulled a battered stapled script from her backpack and flipped to the scene in act 3. “But she’s putting a huge condition on it. _This house, these servants and this same myself are yours, my lord, I give them with this ring, which when you part from, lose or give away, let it presage the ruin of your love and be my vantage to exclaim on you._ Why would she even tell him that if she trusted him?”

“It’s not about trust!” Noah didn’t even pretend to look at the script. “Portia’s the one in control. She’s the one with the money and the power. By giving him the ring, she’s saying, look, I’ll marry you, but you’re gonna have to play by my rules and the rules of society, not this fucking around you’ve been doing, spending your cousin’s money and —“ He seemed to realize Sam was staring at him, and let his mouth close, hunching over and crossing his arms.

If Celeste noticed Noah’s bad temper, she didn’t mention it. “But she already knows Bassanio’s bad with money,” she said. “Why would she expect anything else?”

“Some people seem to think,” Kurt put in casually, “that Antonio and Bassanio were lovers, and Bassanio’s marriage was the thing he had to do in order to maintain respectability.”

Celeste seemed to consider this idea for about three seconds before discarding it. “No way. He was in love with Portia.”

“Maybe.” Kurt shrugged. “Or maybe he just needed someone to pay his debts. The words say Portia was beautiful, but also fair and virtuous. Maybe that was really what appealed to Bassanio.”

“But that’s not how _Puck_ reads it.” Celeste looked to him in appeal, but by now Noah was ignoring everybody at the table. With a huff, she picked up her tray and left. Noah waited about ten seconds, then headed off in the other direction without a word.

Kurt knew by now that Wednesdays were “bunburying” days at the Puckerman household. He wasn’t going to find Noah at home, but it was anybody’s guess where he would be.

 _You didn’t have to be a jerk to Celeste,_ he texted him. _She’s just obsessed with knowing everything. It has nothing to do with you._

_She’s also friends with Karofsky. Did you even think about that?_

He felt a stab of fear at the words. _No,_ Kurt typed slowly. _I didn’t._

_Yeah. Plus her parents are total right-wingers._

_Just because your parents are a certain way doesn’t imply anything about you._

Noah didn’t reply for a while. Finally Kurt added, _If you tell me where you are, I’ll bring the next Ender book over and we can start it now._

_I’m at the reservoir smoking weed._

He made an outraged noise. _If you get caught, you’re going right back to juvie. You know I don’t want to be around that stuff._

_I guess you’d better not join me then._

Kurt stomped around the house, glaring at things and muttering to himself for a good ten minutes before Finn asked him what was wrong.

“It’s nothing.” He threw himself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Well, Noah’s avoiding me, but what’s new?”

“How about you concentrate on the good things?” said Finn. “Karofsky got expelled. Your dad’s doctor said his heart’s doing better. Our parents are getting married. You guys are doing some kind of play in your English class. You _have_ a boyfriend who’s totally into you.”

“Who’s at this very moment doing something stupid and illegal at the reservoir,” Kurt muttered, but he already felt embarrassed by his temper tantrum. He sat up, tugging on his boots. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Kurt?”

“Mmm?”

Finn's voice sounded small. “Do you think Bassanio really liked Portia? Or was he just getting together with her because she had money and power and... you know, because it was what he was supposed to do?”

Kurt threw up his arms. “Finn, why do you even care? You’re not even taking British Lit. It’s all interpretation. Lots of people disagree on all this stuff.” He gestured at the door. “Are you asking me for permission to deviate from accepted social roles? You’ve already got it. Go for it. You don’t actually _have_ to do what other people tell you to do.”

“Maybe _you_ don’t,” said Finn angrily. “But the rest of us, we’re living in the regular world.”

“Oh, yeah. Great. I’m _lucky_ because I don’t pass. I should enjoy it, right? Constantly being a target? How about this, Finn. Try actually _doing something_ you care about. Even if it’s terrifying.”

Finn glared at him. “I did that. Remember? I joined Glee, even though it cost me my popularity. I did Rocky Horror. I even danced in front of a thousand people at Regionals!”

“You wouldn’t dance with _him,_ though.”

He watched Finn’s face turn white, and he wondered if he’d gone too far.

“Like you would dance with Puck.”

“That’s not my choice,” said Kurt. “He’s the one who wants to stay closeted. You’re single, and so is —“

“Shhhhh!” hissed Finn, motioning with his hands, and glanced at the stairs. “God, Kurt, way to keep a secret.”

“Fine. But don’t tell me you can’t.” He picked up his paperback copy of _Shadow of the Giant_ and pulled on his coat _._ “It’s _your_ choice.”

He wasn’t any calmer by the time he reached the reservoir, although he was a lot colder. Noah was wearing his winter jacket and a stocking cap and sitting in the bed of his truck, looking up at the twilight sky.

“I put away the weed,” he called to Kurt. “In case you were worried about my bad behavior rubbing off on you.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to smell like it.” He couldn’t smell anything, not even when he climbed up into the bed, tucking himself into the space between Noah’s legs. He took Noah’s cold hands and fed them into his pockets, chafing them with his own. “Aren’t you freezing?”

“A little.” He seemed very calm, which definitely indicated he’d had a good deal of the weed already, but he wasn’t shivering. “You’ll keep me warm.”

“As long as you don’t care about anybody seeing us.” The reservoir was pretty obviously deserted at the moment, so that was a stupid comment. Kurt knew he was just being contrary, and he sighed, leaning back into Noah’s arms. “I’m sorry I got angry before. I feel like I’m mad at everybody these days. I even yelled at Finn.”

“Oh, yeah? What’d he do?”

Kurt hesitated, but he knew he was going to have to tell Noah something eventually. “He told me about somebody he likes and he won’t do anything about it.”

“Somebody.” Noah’s cold cheek pressed to his. “Was it Sam after all?”

“Not Sam, but… another boy. He said it doesn’t matter, that it’s never going to be reciprocated anyway. He was all, _not everybody can be as lucky as you to be out._ I told him he should ask him to dance at the wedding.” He glared at the horizon. “It’s his choice. He could make it if he wants.”

“Choice is a funny thing, Kurt.” Noah rested his hands on Kurt’s knees. “You could say Portia had a choice when decided to go along with her dead father’s directions to offer a stupid guessing game to anybody who wanted her hand in marriage. She knew it was stupid, but she did it anyway.”

“Life was different in the sixteenth century.” Kurt turned around in the cradle of Noah’s body to face him. “But — yes, she _did_ have a choice. She could have chosen not to follow her father’s rules. It’s not like he was around to know if she did it or not.”

“I’m saying her choice was limited to what she was willing to do. To dishonor her father’s memory wasn’t one of them. Or to go against what was expected. It’s not so different now.”

Kurt looked at him closely. “You are sounding far too rational about this.”

“I know, right?” Noah grinned. “Maybe I should go to school stoned every day.”

“Uh, _no.”_ But he kissed him anyway, then held up the book. “Now, are we going to read or make out?”

His grin widened. “What kind of a choice is that? Yes.”

Usually Finn was already in bed by the time Kurt got home at night, but tonight when he returned to their room, he found Finn sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his phone.

“Hey.” Kurt sat down across from him on his own bed. “I’m sorry about before. I didn’t need to push you like that. It wasn’t about you.”

“Yeah, well…” Finn flashed him a smile. His cheeks were red. “Apparently the way to get me to do something is to make it a challenge.”

“You — what did you do?”

“Uh…” He laughed, gazing at his phone. “I, um. I called Michael? And I said I was dancing with my mom at her wedding, and that I’m a terrible dancer, and you tried to teach me but I gave up, and maybe he could… you know, show me how to do it instead. Because he’s a good dancer. Not that I don’t have twelve other friends who aren’t good dancers, including a whole bunch of girls.”  

“You didn’t!” Kurt stared at him. “What did he say?”

Finn rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. “I guess he didn’t care about any of that, because he said yes.”

“Wow.” Kurt reached over and offered a gentle high-five, which Finn reciprocated. “That was incredibly brave of you. I hope it works out.”

“Me, too. I have no idea if he knows this is… anything. I’m not even sure what I’m willing to do about it.” He shrugged. “Something, I guess?”

“Apparently. I’m trying not to be worried for you.”

“Yeah, well, Karofsky and Azimio already drew on my face with permanent marker and threw slushies at me and called me bisexual. I might as well make it count in my favor.” He took a long breath. “Now I just have to go through with it.”

“You think you might rub off on Noah?”

Kurt was blushing even before Finn started laughing. He hid his face in his hands.

“That… was _not_ what I meant,” he assured Finn, who was still cracking up.

“Don’t worry, little brother. Puck can be a good guy, sometimes, but I don’t think about him that way. And — no joke, all right? — If anybody’s gonna rub off on Noah, it’s gonna be you.”

Pun or not, Kurt couldn’t help but think about that as they got ready for bed. He apparently wasn’t the only one, because once the lights were out, Finn asked hesitantly, “Uh… so how is, you know… sex with guys, anyway?”

“I wouldn’t have a basis for comparison.” He ran through a slide show of all the things he and Noah had done in his mind. “It’s a lot less gross and a lot more… visceral than I expected.”

He wasn’t sure how to explain how the most challenging thing about sex with Noah wasn’t about the sex, but was more about the things they couldn’t have after sex. That, sometimes, it was easier _not_ to have sex because they wouldn’t have to leave one another afterwards, when they were both feeling most vulnerable.

“The idea of it kind of scares me,” Finn admitted. “I never felt scared with girls.”

“Maybe because you had all the power with girls.”

"You think so? I always thought they had all the power over me."

"Sorry, that's not how it works in a sexist society, Finn."

“Maybe.” His voice was hushed. “I kind of like the idea of not having all the power, though.”

“I can relate. It’s best when it’s a give and take. For me, anyway.”

The whole conversation made him miss Noah even more that he was accustomed to at night. He hid the light of his phone under the duvet, so he wouldn’t bother Finn with his texts.

_You’re too far away._

_That’s how it is,_ Noah replied.

He tried not to let himself cry. _Seems ridiculous to want you so much when you’re right there._

_Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day, or gluttoning on all, or all away._

Kurt searched the phrase, and fell asleep reading Sonnet 75 with his phone in his hand.

Kurt went into school early on the day of their _Merchant of Venice_ performance to make sure the costumes and props were ready. Celeste had insisted on a few key items, like the rings, and enough costuming to suggest the characters, but mostly they were relying on pacing and phrasing to convey their meaning. That had all been Noah’s doing. He’d listened to everyone say their lines and given feedback, as particular as a real director would have been, until Kurt thought they all sounded pretty good.

Mr. Tracy unlocked the door and let Kurt into the classroom, turning on the lights. “I’m guessing there’s nothing I can do to help.”

“I’m all set.” He turned to Mr. Tracy and smiled. “I know this wasn’t exactly what you’d planned for us to do in class, but thanks for letting us run with it.”

“No, no!” Mr. Tracy laughed, holding up his hands. “Believe me, if I had a group this motivated every year, I’d be thrilled. Student-driven learning is best. It’s been… well, surprising. Especially Noah’s role in the whole thing. Mrs. Wright told me he had some familiarity with theater, but believe me, I didn’t expect this.” He paused, glancing at the door. “Noah… is coming, right?”

“I made him promise he wouldn’t skip today. That’s about as far as my power reaches.”

“But he’s not the only one who understands Shakespeare, Kurt.” Mr. Tracy picked up a sheaf of papers from his desk. “You provided thoughtful analysis of several pieces this semester. You have a sense of the historical context, and you’ve got the language down cold.”

He found himself blushing. “I guess I appreciate classical theater more than I used to.”

“Have you ever thought about writing your own plays?”

“I —“ He wasn’t sure what to say. “No, I guess I hadn’t. Do people even do that anymore?”

Mr. Tracy smiled. He shuffled through the papers on his desk, then handed Kurt a flyer. “Sure they do. I saw this contest for student playwrights, and I thought of you. You should give it a try.”

“Me?” Kurt stared at the paper. “What about Noah?”

“Are you kidding? It’s pulling teeth to get him to write anything. You think you can convince him to try? Be my guest.”

Kurt thought it was lucky that Noah hadn’t been in the room when Mr. Tracy had this conversation with him. He might not have stuck around for the rest of class, promise or no. He folded the flyer and tucked it into his bag.

It was standing room only for the performance. They’d had to edit it considerably to make it fit in one class period, and even so, they’d run over into sixth hour, but not one teacher had objected when they’d asked. Mr. Schue and Mrs. Wright even came to watch.

Noah didn’t wear any kind of costume, but he did indeed show up. Whatever fears Kurt had had about Noah failing to live up to everyone’s expectations turned out to be unfounded. He was as fearlessly awesome as Kurt had ever seen him on the real stage. The class, which had sat through multiple reads in the past two weeks already, was completely silent every time he opened his mouth. Noah played Bassanio with focus and subtlety, without one break in character, even during multiple catcalls of, “The lead one! Choose the lead one!” when Bassanio had to pick the right casket. Kurt was pretty sure everybody in the room let out a happy sigh when Bassanio and Portia kissed for the first time. Celeste was, if not a fantastic actress, at least clever in the parts where she was supposed to be, and Jacob Cohen managed the Shylock scenes with dignity. There was a lot of clapping between acts.

Kurt noticed Mr. Schue’s mouth hanging open during a lot of Noah’s scenes. Kurt felt more than a little smug when Mr. Schue approached him afterward, vigorously shaking his hand.

“I was blown away,” he gushed. “Both of you, Kurt. Really. Where is Puck, anyway?”

“He never sticks around for curtain calls,” said Kurt.

He lingered beside Mrs. Wright, who hugged him. “I’m guessing I’ll be losing you this summer to Usdan?”

“My father really can’t afford it. I think you’re stuck with me.”

“Unless you apply for a scholarship.” She gave him a measured look. “Can I give you some advice?”

“Okay?”

“You’ve got some talent, Kurt. Singing, dancing, acting: a real triple threat, just like Noah.”

“I’m not as good an actor as Noah,” he protested, "and I'm not really a dancer. Not a trained one, anyway."

“No, but you’re still good, and you have unique enough qualities that you could go places. You’re starting to make connections, but you need to do more shows, more than you can do here. Lima isn’t where you’re going to break into the business. If I’m going to be honest, after you get to college is probably going to be too late. You have to do something _now_ to get yourself noticed, and if that means missing you in our summer performances, so be it.”

The whole speech made Kurt breathless. He hugged Mrs. Wright again and promised her he’d think about it.

No one else in Glee Club had seen Kurt and Noah perform, but they all were gossiping about it when they arrived anyway. Mr. Schue had plenty of complimentary things to say. Noah was remarkably calm about the attention.

“I’d accuse you of smoking before class,” said Kurt, “if I wasn’t certain you would _never do that at school.”_

“Dude, relax,” said Noah, grinning at him. “That performance was one hundred percent natural Puckasaurus.”

They spent the rest of Glee rehearsing their group number for the wedding processional, but all Kurt could think about were Mrs. Wright’s words. _A real triple threat, just like Noah._ _You have to do something now to get yourself noticed._

“We’ll see you Sunday at the wedding, Kurt, Finn.” Mr. Schue beamed at him. “Great job today, Kurt.”

Kurt drove Noah and Finn to pick up their tuxedos after school. Kurt was lost in his own thoughts for several minutes before he realized nobody else was saying anything either. When they got to the mall, he turned around in his seat and saw Finn texting somebody, a pleased little smile on his face.

“Finn,” he demanded, and Finn’s face went beet red. “Tell me that isn’t who I think it is.”

“Maybe?” He glanced at Noah in the passenger seat, and laughed nervously. “I — I don’t know, Kurt.”

“Oh, you know. I can see all over your _face_ you know.”

“You might as well tell me,” Noah drawled, “considering I’m boning your stepbrother.”

Kurt swatted Noah on the arm, but Finn smiled, not even missing a beat. “I’m kind of thinking everybody’s going to know after the wedding.”

“Are you two _dating?_ Do I even want to know what you’ve been doing?”

“So who is this guy?” asked Noah. Finn looked startled, but he took a deep breath.

“It’s Michael Lewis. From jazz band.”

Noah’s face twisted into a grimace. “ _Michael?_ Smarmy _diva_ Michael?”

“Hey.” Finn looked taken aback, and more than a little hurt. “He’s — he’s not like that.”

“Yes, Finn, he is. He’s more of a diva than Kurt, and that’s saying something. Plus he’s also totally ruthless and full of himself. But, okay, you were dating Quinn, and she’s exactly like that too.” He tilted his head. “How do you know he likes guys?”

“I, uh, asked him. Kind of.”

“He said he would teach Finn how to dance for the wedding,” said Kurt. He turned back to Finn. “You met with him?”

“Yeah.” That smile reappeared, shy and amazed and a little overwhelmed. “We talked. And I think he made a pretty good effort at teaching me that 1-2-3-4 dance you were trying to show me.” He looked over at Noah. “I’m not a total lost cause.”

“I never said you were, Finn.” Kurt smiled back at him. “So was that _all_ that happened?”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “You guys really want details?”

“Yes,” said Kurt, at the same time that Noah said, “No.” Kurt hit him again. “Fine,” Noah added, sounding aggravated. “Go ahead.”

“When we danced, it was like…” Finn’s eyes closed, and he let out a long sigh. “Like that song about looking across a crowded room and seeing a stranger, and knowing who they are. Who they’re gonna be.”

Noah glanced over at him, clearly amused, but Kurt quelled him with a stern shake of his head. Noah managed to pull his face together before Finn opened his eyes.

“Anything _else?”_ Kurt prompted.

“Uh…” Finn thought for a moment, then added, “I never realized how much easier is is to kiss somebody who’s your own height.”

Kurt didn’t bother to restrain Noah from laughing this time. “Yeah. That’s true. Also way easier to bend them over a desk.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be doing that any time soon,” Finn said, grinning. “But thanks for the tip.” Then he glanced at Kurt, and his smile vanished. “You mean you guys—?”

“No,” Kurt said firmly. “And I promise I won’t tell you if we ever do.”

Kurt fumbled off the edge of his bed until he felt his phone. He put it to his ear. “What?”

“ _Were you sleeping at four o’clock in the afternoon?”_ asked Noah. _“Dude, you weren’t answering my texts, so I figured I’d call. Are you sick?”_

“I’m napping. Or at least I was.” He glared at the clock as he pulled his sleep mask off, tossing it on the floor. “I’m not sick, I’m just ensuring I have enough rest for tomorrow. I’ve been working all day on putting final touches on the wedding arrangements. It’s exhausting. And now you want me to make an appearance at this… party tonight? I don’t know.”

_“You’re not gonna want to miss it. It’s going to be epic.”_

He sat up, carefully rubbing his eyes. “I honestly didn’t expect, when I said I wasn’t going to plan a bachelor party for my dad, that _you_ would plan one for him instead.”

_“Everybody needs a party before they get hitched. It’s tradition.”_

“I thought the reception _was_ the party.”

_“No, no, this is the wake. He’s mourning his bachelorhood before moving on.”_

“God, you make marriage sound so morbid, Noah. That’s not the way I see it at all.”

 _“I know, babe.”_ Noah didn’t sound upset by this.  On the contrary, he was more cheerful than usual. _“I promise, no strippers. Will you come even if you didn’t get enough sleep? It’s casual.”_

“I’m not going to like it,” Kurt muttered. “And I’m going to dress up whether you want me to or not. Every occasion is an opportunity for fashion.”

Noah’s voice dropped into a quiet purr. _“That’s just gonna make me want to grind up against you when nobody’s looking.”_

“At my _dad’s_ party?”

_“Dads just wanna have fun, too.”_

Kurt had not counted on feeling grumpy on the day before executing his very first wedding, the one he’d waited all his _life_ to plan, but he decided this must be karmic justice. _If I believed in that._ He resolutely sang “Defying Gravity” as he showered and styled his hair.

“Nothing’s gonna bring you down?” asked Finn. He held out two sweaters. “Blue or brown?”

“Blue,” Kurt decided. “Although the brown is very nice with your eyes.”

Finn nodded approvingly into the mirror at Kurt’s reflection. “That jacket rocks, dude. Are you bringing a joke?”

“A joke?”

“You know. For Puck’s thing.” At Kurt’s blank look, Finn let out a nervous chuckle. “Uh… maybe he didn’t tell you for a reason.”

Noah had reserved the back room of Fat Jack’s. They arrived a little early, but the room was already hopping by the time they got there. The mean age was definitely closer to forty than sixteen, but Kurt recognized several of his dad’s old friends and long-term clients helping themselves to beer, including his English teacher Mr. Tracy.

Kurt caught a brief glimpse of Noah sitting in the corner, wearing his tux and holding an electric bass, before Finn stopped in the doorway and turned around. “Shit.”

“What?” He felt a stab of fear. Maybe Karofsky had infiltrated his dad’s bachelor party, looking for revenge.

“It’s _Michael.”_ Finn stared at the wall, taking deep breaths. “Puck didn’t tell me he was inviting him to this.”

Kurt watched Michael unpack his guitar and hook it up to Noah’s amp. “I thought things were good between the two of you.”

“They are. I just wasn’t ready to — you know, see him. In front of other people.”

“Finn, come on.” Kurt put one hand on his shoulder and patted his back with the other, steering him toward the room. “We are not incapable of politeness. You see him every day at school. Just smile and, you know. Be casual.”

His smile looked more sick than casual, but Michael just smiled back and gave him a little wave before returning to tuning his guitar. Noah mostly ignored Kurt, but that felt normal. This wasn’t school, but it certainly wasn’t private, either, and Kurt didn’t expect Noah to treat him like anything more than an acquaintance in front of other people. He tried not to think too much about how _that_ felt _normal._

They found a seat at a table on the other side of the room from where his dad was laughing and talking with friends. His dad held up his mug of beer in a salute, and Kurt raised his glass of club soda in return.

“Don’t let him get too drunk,” said a familiar voice. Kurt turned to see Carole smiling beside him.

“Mom,” said Finn, looking horrified. “I’m not going to drink. And you aren’t supposed to be here, are you? This is a _bachelor_ party.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m not sticking around. After all, I’m moving into a house with three men. How many evenings to myself am I likely to get after tonight?” She kissed Kurt’s cheek. “And I wasn’t referring to you, Finn. I was talking about Burt. Let’s try to avoid a hangover, all right?”

“You got it,” promised Kurt. They watched her thread her way through the tables toward the door, making conversation with everyone as they called congratulations. He turned to Finn. “Did you… tell your mom yet? About Michael?”

“No!” Finn was staring fixedly at the salt shaker, but Kurt noticed he’d positioned himself to be able to see the performers out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t even know what I would say.”

“Well, she’s going to figure it out if you keep looking at him like that.”

“Like what? I’m not.” Finn looked over, saw Michael watching him, smiling, and looked away hurriedly. _“Shit.”_

Kurt managed not to roll his eyes. “We seriously need to work on your cool.”

But when he heard the song Noah and Michael had chosen to start their set with, Kurt had a hard time maintaining his own cool:

[ _https://youtu.be/Mb3iPP-tHdA_ ](https://youtu.be/Mb3iPP-tHdA)

_We skipped the light fandango_   
_Turned cartwheels cross the floor_   
_I was feeling kinda seasick  
But the crowd called out for more…_

He could see his dad singing along to “Whiter Shade of Pale,” smiling approval. _It’s his favorite movie,_ he’d told Noah, all the way back in the summer before ninth grade, when they’d done the production of _Grease_ with Mrs. Wright.

And it turned out that Michael and Noah were working their way through the entire _Big Chill_ soundtrack. They kept the volume on the amp low to allow for conversation, but their voices were upbeat on the catchy tunes and smooth and mellow on the ballads, just right for the occasion. Kurt had a front row seat to Finn’s starstruck expression when they harmonized on “Good Lovin’,” and when Michael sang lead on “Too Proud to Beg,” Kurt thought Finn might pass out.

[ _https://youtu.be/tbNJfjskXkY_ ](https://youtu.be/tbNJfjskXkY)

_I know you wanna leave me_   
_But I refuse to let you go_   
_If I have to beg, plead for your sympathy_   
_I don't mind 'cause you mean that much to me  
Ain't too proud to beg and you know it…_

“Wow,” said Finn breathlessly. “They — they sound really good. Don’t you think they sound good?”

“I think that was the intention, yes.” Kurt leaned across the table. “Finn.”

“Mmm?” Finn tore his eyes away from the performers. He laughed. “I guess I’m used to being the singer, not… being sung to.”

“Rachel sings to you all the time.”

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged. “That’s different.”

“You once told me you were in love with her,” Kurt pointed out.

“It’s _different,”_ Finn said again. His eyes drifted back to Michael and Noah singing [Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Bad Moon Risin’,](https://youtu.be/zUQiUFZ5RDw)” passing the solo back and forth between bass and guitar. They were clearly having a fantastic time.   

“Do ‘Natural Woman!’” called his dad. There were shouts and clapping from the direction of his table.

“Sorry, Mr. H,” Noah called back. “Out of my range.”

“Kurt can sing it.” Kurt startled, but his dad was gesturing at him. “Go on. You can sing the hell out of that song.”

Finn raised both eyebrows. “Uh…”

“Well, I’m not Mercedes,” said Kurt defensively, setting his napkin aside, “but… I might have sung it a few times. A few dozen times.”

Michael was already vamping on the guitar, watching him for a cue. He’d played for Glee on so many songs before, Kurt didn’t even hesitate to let him accompany. But standing beside Noah and singing those particular lyrics, in front of this array of the general public, gave him a distinct sensation of vulnerability.

[ https://youtu.be/dEWuAcMWDLY ](https://youtu.be/dEWuAcMWDLY)

_When my soul was in the lost and found_   
_You came along to claim it_   
_I didn't know just what was wrong with me  
'Til your kiss helped me name it_

_Now I'm no longer doubtful of what I'm living for_   
_And if I make you happy I don't need to do more_

_‘Cause you make me feel…_

Range notwithstanding, Michael and Noah managed a doo-wop backup in a very harmonious falsetto. And when Kurt got to the bridge, and called out, _“Oh, baby, what you done to me?”_ the whole room called back the response. It made everyone laugh, but Kurt kept singing, aiming his voice at the back of the room:

_You make me feel so good inside (good inside)_   
_And I just wanna be (wanna be) close to you  
You make me feel so alive_

Everyone applauded for him, and he gave a little bow before returning to his table. Finn looked nothing short of awed.

“How do you _do_ that?” he demanded. “I can barely sing those notes, much less make them sound like _that_.”

“Over-the-counter tenor,” deadpanned Kurt. “And you can’t complain. You have a fantastic range. Now _you_ have to sing something.”

Thankfully, Finn was not scared off by this suggestion. They scanned through the song titles from _The Big Chill_ soundtrack on Kurt’s phone until Kurt found one Finn knew.

“I don’t know if I can sing it without playing the drum part,” Finn admitted, but Kurt dragged him up to stand next to Noah and put a microphone in his hand. He glanced over at Michael, who was grinning.

“So what are we doing?”

“Gimme Some Lovin’,” said Finn, and bit his lip when Michael broke up laughing.

“Nice,” he said, nodding. “Okay. Go for it.”

Finn did, of course, because that was the kind of performer he was. He patted out the drum part on his thighs and flawlessly wailed out the Steve Winwood melody:

[ https://youtu.be/VxA3atHD2QM ](https://youtu.be/VxA3atHD2QM)

_Well my temperature's rising and my feet are on the floor_   
_Twenty people knocking 'cos they're wanting some more_   
_Let me in baby, I don't know what you've got  
But you'd better take it easy, this place is hot_

_I'm so glad we made it, I'm so glad we made it  
You've gotta gimme some lovin every day _

It brought down the house. Finn accepted Michael’s high-five with relative calm.

“Stay up here, man,” said Michael. “We got plenty of songs to go around.” He nodded at Kurt. “Both of you. You’d do ‘Dancing in the Street’ way better than me.”

[ _https://youtu.be/CdvITn5cAVc?t=50s_ ](https://youtu.be/CdvITn5cAVc?t=50s)

_It doesn't matter what you wear,_   
_Just as long as you are there_   
_So come on, every guy, grab a girl_   
_Everywhere, around the world  
They'll be dancing, dancing in the street_

Neither of them were about to turn down an opportunity to sing. While Noah and Michael took lead, Kurt and Finn hung out behind Noah’s music stand, improvising harmonies. Kurt had to fake some of the ones he didn’t know as well, but most of the songs were familiar enough from his own childhood that he didn’t have to work too hard. His dad didn’t stop singing, either, and he was smiling the whole time.

Kurt didn’t exactly wrestle Noah for the sheet music to “Tell Him,” but it was a near thing. This time Finn and Noah did the falsetto doo-wop backup.

[ _https://youtu.be/0SNACaZ4MXY_ ](https://youtu.be/0SNACaZ4MXY)

_I know something about love_   
_You've gotta want it bad_   
_If that guy's got into your blood  
Go out and get him_

_If you want him to be_   
_The very heart of you_   
_Make you want to breathe  
Here's the thing to do_

_Tell him that you're never gonna leave him_   
_Tell him that you're always gonna love him  
Tell him, tell him, tell him, tell him right now_

They were all sweaty and pleased with themselves by the time the set was over. While Noah filled in with some jazzy instrumentals, Michael followed them back to their table to order a drink. Finn slid his french fries over, and Michael helped himself to them, which appeared to please Finn a lot.

“So did you bring a joke?” Michael asked. Finn snickered.

“What is this all about a joke?” said Kurt. “We’re supposed to have one to share?”

“Yeah. It said on the invitation. A joke.” He grinned. “A _dirty_ joke.”

“Oh… no.” Kurt stared at him. “Let me guess. This was Noah’s plan.”

“He put together the party, right?” Michael took another fry. “Your dad seems cool with all of it. You okay with him getting married again?”

“Carole is magnificent,” Kurt told him, his chin jerking into the air.

“Kurt kind of set the two of them up,” said Finn.

“No kidding?” Michael nodded at Kurt. “And _you_ get a stepbrother out of the deal.”

“Well, we both do. Blending our families hasn’t been easy. Finn’s been very patient with the whole thing.”

“Except for when he accused you of hitting on him.”

Kurt looked at Finn in surprise. “You told him about that?”

“Seemed only fair,” said Finn, shrugging. He looked a little embarrassed, but he was indeed keeping his cool.

“I think he wanted me to know what I was getting myself into,” said Michael. “Maybe to see if I was going to have an issue with it myself.”

Kurt turned to look at him. “And do you?”

“Kurt,” Finn muttered, but Michael just smirked.

“I don’t have a problem with you being gay, Kurt, as long as you don’t have a problem with people who don’t like labels.”

“As long as _you_ don’t have a problem with people who are _very protective_ of their stepbrothers,” Kurt replied tautly. “There’s a difference between refusing labels and using people.”

“Kurt!” said Finn again, glaring at him. “Relax. Nobody’s using anybody.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He very pointedly did not look at Noah, who was putting his guitar away and moving to stand before the microphone.

Michael stood up, stretching, then bent down to murmur into Kurt’s ear. “Whatever I do with Finn is our business. I’d suggest you back off.”

“And I suggest _you_ back off,” Kurt replied, just as quietly, “before you break his heart. He’s already got some very profound ideas about your importance.”

Michael’s confident smile slipped a little. “Maybe I am. Important.”

 _Only in your own mind,_ Kurt thought. But he smiled. “Time will tell. In the meantime, don’t you have another set to do?”

Michael glanced up at Noah, then grinned. “Oh, no. This one’s all Puck.”

“So,” said Noah. He gazed around the room and waited until people started to get quiet. Then he took a step forward, held the microphone up to his mouth, and inhaled, as though he were about to say something. It was a trick Kurt had seen him use more than once to make sure everyone in the audience was really paying attention. They fell silent, all eyes on him. “What’s black and white and red all over?”

“A newspaper?” called his dad.

“A zebra wearing too much lipstick?” suggested Michael, prompting chuckles.

“I was going to say a dork in a tuxedo without any jokes,” said Noah. “But that’s the last clean joke anybody’s gonna tell tonight. Mr. H, I’m definitely not a comedian…”

“You can say that again,” muttered Kurt, loud enough to make Noah clear his throat.

“… But I heard from a reliable source that you appreciate a good off-color joke. So I’m here to get us started.” His lip twitched, and he grinned at the floor. “What’s long and hard and has cum in it?”

The room went silent for a moment, while everybody watched his dad’s face, presumably to see if this was too offensive. But his dad simply waited for Noah to supply the punch line. Noah smiled.

“A cucumber.”

Finn made the rimshot noise while everybody groaned. His dad just laughed harder when Noah informed him that his little sister had supplied that one.

“All right, everybody,” said Noah, gesturing, “whip ‘em out.”

After that, people lined up beside the microphone to share their own dirty jokes. His dad’s own offering was one of the tamest: “Impotence is nature’s way of saying no hard feelings.” The rest of them ranged from mild (“Having sex in an elevator is raunchy on so many levels”) to lewd (“What’s an Australian kiss? The same thing as a French kiss, only down under”), but somehow everyone managed to avoid bringing up anything really offensive.

Some of the subject matter was explicitly heterosexual, but Kurt expected that. “Why do men find it hard to make eye contact?” asked Mr. Wegner, who managed his dad’s business finances. “Because breasts don’t have eyes.” And Mr. Yee from the pharmacy offered, “What did the banana say to the vibrator? What are you shaking for? She’s going to _eat_ me!”

But most of the jokes were fairly inclusive. He could only wonder if that was a nod to his presence, since as far as he knew he was the only openly gay person in the room.

“Don’t steal someone else’s dildo,” advised Mr. Campbell, who owned the largest collection of Cadillacs in town and always brought them to the garage for service. “You’ll be convicted of criminal wrong dong.”

That prompted a whole series of dildo jokes, more than Kurt had thought existed. Kurt almost snorted his pop when Noah told them what a dildo and tofu have in common (they’re both meat substitutes).

Michael had clearly come prepared. “When I get naked in the bathroom, the shower usually gets turned on,” he said, without one look at Finn.

Finn’s own joke was actually pretty good, to the point that Kurt suspected somebody else had probably found it for him: “The difference between light and hard is that you can sleep with a light on.”

After a while, the quality of the offerings began to wane. Michael turned to Kurt. “How about you? Think you can come up with one?”

“I’m not really a dirty joke person,” he said, but Noah responded with a loud snort.

“I seem to recall somebody telling me in the hallway outside his dad’s hospital room that dirty puns were his kryptonite.”

Michael turned to look at Noah. His gaze was definitely curious. “You were hanging out with Kurt and Mr. Hummel at… the hospital?”

“He had a heart attack last month.” Kurt stood up. “Okay, I suppose it’s only fair I share one.”

He made his way up to the microphone and waited while Mr. Tripp told them that sex at age 90 was like trying to shoot pool with a rope. When Mr. Tripp passed the microphone to him, he couldn’t help but look over at Noah. He was smiling, of course, but Kurt didn’t expect to see the expression of love on his face. Kurt had to wonder if Noah realized he was showing that level of intimacy in public. He cleared his throat.

“The only problem with being an atheist,” he announced, “is there’s no one to talk to during an orgasm.”

Michael gave him a friendly pat on the back when he returned to the table. “It wasn’t exactly a pun, was it?”

“Noah didn’t ask for puns,” said Kurt primly. He sipped his club soda and kept his eyes on the stage. But Michael wasn’t letting up.

“Noah. Nobody really calls him that anymore, do they? Not since he played Puck in _Midsummer_ at Usdan.”

Kurt’s smile thinned. “I wouldn’t think you would have a problem with him being gone in the summer to theater camp. Considering that meant less competition for you in Wright’s productions.”

“Competition?” Michael laughed. “You think Puck would have even tried out for those roles? He thinks musical theater’s beneath him. Last musical role he played was Linus in _You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown.”_

“I know. I saw him.”

The way Michael was looking at him was almost compassionate. “Kurt, I know Puck’s a hell of a performer, but… I have to say, that doesn’t make him gay.”

Kurt wheeled on Michael, trying not to clench his fists. “No, what would make him gay is if he were in love with another boy.”

Michael took a step backward. He looked more uneasy than Kurt had ever seen him. “Who said anything about love?”

“Nobody.” Kurt advanced on him, forcing him back another few steps, until they were against the wall by the bathroom. “Look… Michael, I know you’re just about the most self-centered human being on the face of this earth, and I imagine you’d like nothing better than to use this party for your own devices. But can you and I please have this conversation another time, and let my father enjoy his bachelor party?”

“Jesus,” said Michael, with a bewildered laugh. “I’m not — I was just making conversation.”

“Fine. I’ll look forward to more of that _after_ the wedding.” He closed his mouth and smiled, refusing to say more. He didn’t want to make it impossible for himself to follow his own advice. Michael finally took the hint and left him alone.

When the party eventually wound down, Kurt and Noah were among the last people remaining. Although his father did not seem to be drunk, he also did not appear to have run out of energy. He approached Noah with a wide smile and an outstretched handshake that turned into a hug.

“Hell of a party, Noah,” he said. “You were right, about all of it.”

Noah shrugged at Kurt’s inquisitive look. “I just said he could use an evening to relax, without too many expectations. Then tomorrow can be all about Mrs. H.”

“You weren’t worried about it being inappropriate?” Kurt asked Noah after his dad had gone to say goodbye to the last of his friends.

“Theater’s not about being appropriate.” Noah’s smile was a little enigmatic. “Any more than it’s about being subtle. It’s about being _memorable._ This was for your dad. He likes crass jokes. So do you, Kurt, when you’re not so fucking worried about offending people. And, seriously, what do you think Shakespeare is all about, anyway? Every comedic scene he wrote was a chance to tell dirty puns.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“You didn’t notice the conversation between Portia and Nerissa about daggers in _The Merchant of Venice?_ That was totally about them strapping on dildos. Hey, and how about the last line of the play? Graziano says, _while I live I'll fear no other thing / So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring._ He ain’t just talking about losing that gold thing on her finger.” He glanced toward the back of the room, where Finn and Michael were standing talking. “Speaking of keeping them safe. What the hell, Kurt? I thought Finn had better taste than that.”

“After Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry, really, you thought so?” Kurt sighed. “Well, at least I’m not the only one who doesn’t like him.”

“It’s not even that. I guess Michael’s okay. Maybe I’d be willing to give him a chance, if I thought he was at all invested.”

“I honestly don’t know yet.” Kurt thought about the uneasy expression on Michael’s face when he’d challenged him. “I think this might be the first time anybody’s _expected_ him to be invested.”

They both stared at the two boys talking until Michael said something to Finn that made his head whip around and glare at them.

“I think he’s going to be mad at both of us if we don’t back off,” murmured Noah. He sighed. “But I don’t think that’s the best thing to do.”

Kurt smiled. “You care about him.”

“Hell, yeah, I care about him!” Noah said indignantly. “He’s practically my brother. And now…” He cut himself off, looking away.

“Now?” Kurt said softly.

“I’m gonna head home.”

Whatever he’d been about to say, the moment had passed. “It’s late,” said Kurt. “Later than I wanted to be up tonight, but… you were right, Noah. It was a great party. My dad had a fantastic time, and so did I, thanks to you.”

Noah looked honestly pleased, but he just nodded back and said, “See you tomorrow at two.”

[ https://youtu.be/LIX_JSMxF_0 ](https://youtu.be/LIX_JSMxF_0)  

_I don't have no grand plan for you and me_   
_just nothing is impossible, nothing is unlikely_   
_I'm just riding the tide, nothing more  
and it's bound to take me out some before it brings me back to shore_

_\- ani difranco, “Circle of Light”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits:
> 
> [The Merchant of Venice](http://shakespeare.mit.edu/merchant/merchant.3.2.html) by William Shakespeare, Act III, Scene 2. 
> 
> [Sonnet 75](http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/75) by William Shakespeare.
> 
> Songs from the soundtrack to The Big Chill (1983) sung at Burt's bachelor party included:
> 
>   * [A Whiter Shade of Pale](https://youtu.be/Mb3iPP-tHdA), sung by Procul Harum 
>   * [Gimme Some Lovin’](https://youtu.be/VxA3atHD2QM), sung by The Spencer Davis Group 
>   * [You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman](https://youtu.be/dEWuAcMWDLY), sung by Aretha Franklin 
>   * [Tell Him](https://youtu.be/0SNACaZ4MXY), sung by The Exciters 
>   * [Good Lovin’](https://youtu.be/Oy625sZAHN8), sung by The Rascals 
>   * [Ain’t Too Proud to Beg](https://youtu.be/tbNJfjskXkY), sung by The Temptations 
>   * [Bad Moon Risin’](https://youtu.be/zUQiUFZ5RDw), sung by Creedence Clearwater Revival 
>   * [Dancing in the Streets](https://youtu.be/CdvITn5cAVc), sung by Martha and the Vandellas
> 

> 
> All dirty jokes were supplied by friends and as such are uncredited.


	5. Chapter 5

After the bachelor party, Kurt and Finn and his dad rode back to the house together, listening to _The Big Chill_ soundtrack in the car and singing along. Once they’d said goodnight to his dad and made their way downstairs, Finn turned to Kurt. “Are you going to bed?”

“Pretty soon, yeah.” Kurt yawned and began to unbutton his shirt. Finn put a hand on his arm.

“I’m gonna go out again,” he said quietly. “Our folks aren’t getting up until morning, and… I don’t think I’m coming home tonight.”

Kurt stared at him in shock. “Finn? Isn’t this a little —“

“Sudden. Yeah. I know.” He ran a hand over his neck. “You’re kind of the king of waiting for it by comparison. Look, I know it isn’t who you would have picked for me, but… Kurt, I really like him. I wish you liked him too, but you don’t have to.”

“I know. It’s your choice.” Kurt tried smiling. “I — I don’t _not_ like him.”

“No, you don’t. I knew that before all of this started.” Finn glanced up at the stairs. “You won’t tell?”

Kurt crossed his arms. “Are you going to be safe?”

His face went red, but he nodded. “Promise.”

That more than anything else made Kurt stand aside while Finn grabbed his bag.

“I’ll text you in the morning,” he said. “Wish me luck.”

Kurt couldn’t quite do that, but he stood at the bottom of the stairs and waved as Finn disappeared. He heard the front door quietly open and shut. A minute later, he heard a car drove away.

He took his time getting ready for bed, taking a very thorough shower and going through his full moisturizing routine with all the extra eye steps. Then he picked up his phone.

 _Why is having sex is like playing cards?_ he asked Noah.

It took a while for a response to come back, but Noah had the answer for him.

_If you don’t have a good partner, you’d better have a good hand._

_You win,_ Kurt said. _I should know better than to expect I could ever best you at a game involving words._

 _Try me at Scrabble sometime,_ he said. _I’ll totally lose._

_If you haven’t noticed, you seldom spell anything wrong anymore._

There was another long pause. Kurt brushed his teeth very carefully, and flossed.

_Must be all the fucking texting we’re doing._

Kurt smiled. There was no way Noah was going to take credit for the improved quality of his own writing.

 _I have something to ask you,_ Kurt typed slowly. _And I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with it, but I’m going to ask anyway, and I’m going to leave it up to you._

_Okay?_

_Finn isn’t here tonight. I’m fairly certain my dad and Carole are occupied. Would you like to spend the night?_

He sat there and held his breath until he saw Noah’s reply. _Fuck yeah. On my way._

Part of him wondered if he should change the sheets, or get back in the shower and wash certain parts of his body more carefully, but he knew Noah’s standards in that regard were not nearly as exact as his own. Noah would take him just the way he was, however he happened to be. It felt comforting to be certain of that.

He hovered upstairs in the hallway until he saw Noah approaching the house. As quietly as he could, he let him in, and they tiptoed downstairs.

“I don’t know if I’ll get away with this or not,” he told Noah. “I might get in big trouble. But…” He shrugged. “I think I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

Noah reached out and took his hand. “I care about what your dad thinks, Kurt, but when it comes down to it, I’m here for you. What makes _you_ happy trumps what makes _other_ people happy. Even if that means breaking some of other people’s rules.”

“I think I knew that when I asked you to come over.” He kissed Noah, relaxing into his sigh. “You were incredible tonight. You remembered that _The Big Chill_ was my dad’s favorite movie.”

“I remember everything,” Noah murmured. He picked up Kurt’s wrist and traced the shape of the silver bracelet he wore, the one he’d made for Kurt in shop class. “Were you wearing this? Earlier?”

Kurt just nodded. He wasn’t about to admit he wore it most of the time.

Noah shook his head. “I can’t believe I sang you that dorky song in your dad’s hospital room.”

“I loved that song,” Kurt protested. “Of all the romantic gestures you’ve ever made, that one felt like the most… intentional of all of them. I was so scared about my dad, and you just dropped everything to take care of me.”

Noah’s face was scarlet. He made a little mortified groan and tugged away from Kurt to pace to the door and back. “So… Finn and Michael, huh? They getting it on tonight or what?”

“I didn’t ask for details. He just promised he’d be safe.” He watched Noah move restlessly around the room. “I think I’m going to keep my phone on tonight, though. Just in case he ends up in a less than happy situation.”

“That’s cool.” Noah let his eyes land on Kurt for a long moment. It made him catch his breath. “I’m hoping he doesn’t come home, though.”

“Yeah. I, um, already showered, but… you can, if you want.” He nodded at the bathroom.

Noah nodded. He set his backpack beside Kurt’s bed. Then he stripped, more efficiently than he had the night Kurt had visited his bedroom, but to no less effect. Kurt sat on the edge of the bed and watched him, feeling lightheaded.

“You have the most unbelievable body,” he said.

“I’m really lucky you appreciate it like that.”

“I really, really do,” Kurt promised fervently. “I think about it a lot. It’s… inspiring.”

“Yeah, you told me.” He finished shimmying out of his jeans and kicked them aside, standing naked in the doorway to the bathroom. Kurt couldn’t refrain from making a little moan when Noah grasped his half-hard dick and started stroking it slowly. “You still think about me when you jerk off, Kurt?”

“You know I do.” He ran his hands over his legs through his pajama pants. It felt almost impossible that the actual subject of his fantasies was standing in his room, naked and masturbating.

“I think about you.” Noah wasn’t increasing the speed of his hand, but Kurt could see just how hard he was already. He leaned forward, letting his own hand rest between his legs, squeezing himself.

“What… do you think about?” Kurt asked breathlessly.

Noah’s eyes were closed. He tilted his head back and inhaled. “I think about you fucking me.”

“God.” The words sent an overwhelming surge through him.

“Yeah.” Noah’s tone was bitter. “So much for taking care of you, huh?”

He paused. “I — I don’t think that’s —“

Noah let his hand drop to his side and turned away from Kurt, the muscles in his shoulders knotting. “You don’t have to say anything. I know that’s not how you see me.”

Kurt squinted at him. “And how exactly do you know how I see you?”

“Because you tell me all the time. You like me strong, confident. In control. I can do that.” He shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Hey!” Kurt snapped, rising to his feet. “Don’t _tell_ me what I want from you.”

“And don’t try to protect my fucking ego by hiding it,” Noah shot back. “I know you, Kurt.”

In five long strides, Kurt was right beside him. He grabbed Noah’s shoulder and shoved him up against the door. Noah’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t try to pull away.

“You know me?” Kurt repeated. “I’m not sure how you would in this case, because I barely know myself when I’m this turned on around you. I want — things I never dreamed of wanting.” He thrust his hips into Noah’s, making him groan. “Remember what we did in your truck?”

“Oh, my god, Kurt.” He took a shaky breath. “I jerk off to it at least once a day.”

“Okay. So you don’t think I wanted that? Wasn’t I the one trying to — to _do_ you without a condom?”

He didn’t wait for Noah’s response. He just pushed him up against the door again, kissing him firmly, while Noah shuddered under his hands.

“You know what? I’m going to say screw the shower.” Kurt maneuvered Noah across the room to his bed, keeping their bodies connected as closely as he could while he did so. It was a lot less awkward than it could have been — or, possibly, he was too worked up to notice. It wasn’t until he’d stripped off his t-shirt and pajama pants and knelt between Noah’s legs that he paused, stricken. “Oh… shit.”

“What?”

He sagged, resting his hands on his thighs. “I don’t _have_ any condoms here.”

“Or lube, I bet.” Noah grinned, then reached over the edge of the bed to haul his backpack up beside them. Unzipping the front pocket, he handed Kurt a strip of condoms, the bottle of lubricant — and the enormous, scary sex toy he’d had in his glove box. Kurt almost dropped it on Noah’s stomach.

“This feels a lot softer than I expected,” he said, giving it an experimental squeeze. He bit his lip, glancing up at Noah. “Is this what… would you rather have this inside you, instead?”

“Not instead,” Noah clarified. “Only — maybe after.”

“Oh. All right.”

He could feel his lost momentum stealing his courage, but Noah didn’t seem to be bothered by this. While Kurt set the sex toy on the night stand, Noah ripped open a condom and rolled it on for him. When he picked up the bottle of lubricant, however, Kurt stopped him.

“I think I want to do this part myself, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” said Noah. “Totally okay.”

Noah avidly watched each move he made, the way he spread the lube onto two fingers, then applied it in gentle circles while Noah stroked himself lightly. As soon as Kurt pressed his fingertips into him, however, Noah stopped moving, breathing hard.

“Is it okay?” Kurt asked anxiously.

“Trying not to come.”

“Oh. Uh… wow.” Kurt ventured a smile. “I could distract you with dirty jokes?”

That made Noah laugh out loud. “You got any left?”

Kurt adjusted his fingers and watched Noah twitch. “A man walks up to the front door of an establishment just as a male deer steps out onto the sidewalk. The man looks up at the sign in consternation and says to himself, ‘I thought this was a gay bar.’” He carefully withdrew his fingertips and knelt over Noah, trying to position himself correctly. “And the deer says, ‘Well, I’m not sure, but I just blew thirty bucks in there.’”

Noah gazed up at him, his eyes alight with mirth. “Yeah. Wow… you know how much I love you right now?”

“Not as much as you’re going to love me in a couple minutes?”

Noah’s laugh was smothered by a gasp that turned into a moan as Kurt thrust forward. Kurt shushed him, but after that, Noah managed to keep his own sounds in check. Kurt lowered himself onto his elbows, leaning over him until Noah was bent double, his knees up by his ears. Gently at first, then with more force, he rocked into him.

“Oh, fuck,” Noah muttered, “oh, fuck, Kurt, that’s —“

It was almost magical the way Noah responded, not only to the motion of Kurt’s hips but to the breathy sounds he made. With each gentle murmur of encouragement, Noah replied with a shaky _yeah,_ until Kurt was saying full sentences that would have made him roll his eyes under any other circumstance, things like _you like it like that_ and _you’re taking it so good,_ just to hear Noah say _yeah_ , over and over again. The whole situation was beyond surreal, and so intoxicating Kurt had to make an effort to stay focused enough to keep it going.

When Noah gasped, “Oh god,” and came suddenly, pulsing onto his stomach, Kurt wondered if he should stop. Then he remembered what Noah had said about continuing after, and also how good it had felt to have Noah still inside of _him,_ after he’d come. He slowed his thrusts, watching Noah’s face and how he was reacting to more stimulation.

“Still good?” he asked at some point.

Noah, his eyes screwed up tight, gave him a quick nod.

Kurt leaned in closer to his ear. “Do you know how incredibly hot you look like this?”

Noah blinked his eyes open, venturing a look up at Kurt. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kurt said, with emphasis. “I will absolutely be thinking about you… just like this.”

After that, Noah was more relaxed. It didn’t take long before he was hard again, and through it all, he was still making those delicious appreciative noises. When Kurt experimented a little with speed, angle and depth of thrust, he accidentally discovered a combination of the three that brought him to a very quick conclusion, but Noah didn’t seem to mind that, either. In fact, he seemed content to hold Kurt on top of him for a long time, even after the sweat of their bodies had dried and they began to get a little chilly.

“I have to admit I’m really curious about this sex toy now,” Kurt said.

Noah glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s after midnight. And your dad’s getting married tomorrow.”

“Yes, and I have my boyfriend _in my bed.”_ He kissed Noah’s neck, squeezing his renewed erection. “You’ll forgive me if sleep suddenly comes second in my list of priorities.”

“How about we shower, then get back into bed and try to get some sleep. And if you feel like waking me up in the middle of the night to fuck me with that toy, you can do that.”

Kurt moaned, stretching his whole body. “That sounds _amazing.”_

Showering with Noah was unexpectedly nice. Kurt hadn’t been sure he would like sharing that small space with another body, but Noah managed to wash him without making him feel self-conscious. While they dried off, he noticed Noah grinning at the tub.

“I was just thinking,” said Noah, “about all the times we did stuff on the phone while you were in this bathroom.”

Kurt rested his chin on Noah’s shoulder. “Is it okay that I really prefer having you here in person?”

“That’s okay,” Noah agreed.

Kurt watched Noah take a contact lens case out of his bag and swap his lenses for a thick pair of glasses. He reached up and touched the frames. "I've never seen these before. I didn't even realize you wore glasses."

"Only since fourth grade."

"I like them," Kurt decided. They didn't get in the way when Noah leaned in to kiss him, but he set them aside before they turned out the light. 

Kurt still had some vague notion about more sex, but almost as soon as they were horizontal again, and Kurt’s clean body was intertwined with Noah’s, he fell asleep.

When he woke up again, it was early morning. He could hear Noah’s breathing, could feel him there beside him, and just that felt like the biggest gift.

“What time is it?” he whispered into the darkness.

Noah stirred. “Five-thirty.”

“Are you still asleep?”

“No,” Noah growled. For an uneasy moment, Kurt thought Noah might be angry at him. That fear woke him right up. Then he felt Noah’s erection against his leg.

“Do you want—” He wasn’t sure how to ask for the idea in his head, or even how it would work, but Noah was already in motion. He reached for Kurt’s hand and wrapped it around him, showing him how he wanted it.

“Kiss me.”

That wasn’t hard to do. He was a little self-conscious about the sour morning taste in his mouth, but that concern disappeared after a few minutes, and then all Kurt could taste was Noah.

He was so focused on what they were doing that he didn’t notice the other noises in the room until they coalesced into a nervous voice. “Uh… Puck?”

Noah froze, then scrambled out of Kurt’s reach. “Fuck. Wasn’t he supposed to be out last night?”

“I was,” said Finn. It was too dark to see much, but Kurt could make out the shadow of his form rising out of bed and reaching for his robe. He sounded embarrassed. “I’ll, uh, go up to the living room. Jeez, Kurt, you could have warned me Puck was here.”

“Are you okay?” Kurt asked. “I mean — last night…”

“Later,” Finn said tersely.

They both sat there, tense and uncertain, until Finn had disappeared up the stairs.  When Kurt fumbled in the dark for Noah, he huffed quietly, but he took Kurt’s hand and held it.

“We did talk about making out in front of him.”

“Well, yes, but I’d assumed we would be _clothed._ ” Kurt sighed. “I think I’d better go talk to him.”

“He said later. That means he’s not ready to talk. Just… get back in bed? For now?”

Kurt told himself it was a sensible choice because it was cold in the basement, and that he wasn’t doing it because Noah was there and naked and turned on. He even felt a little guilty for being able to resume what they’d been doing so quickly, but not guilty enough to stop.

“I really want to suck you,” Noah whispered against his neck. Kurt had to choke back a very loud noise.

“I don’t think I’m ready to do that,” he said quickly.

“I wasn’t saying _you_ had to.”

“No, but — god — I think it should be mutual, and I don’t want to feel guilty about telling you no, I don’t want to. And I’m not saying never because — because right now the thought of that is _really_ is turning me on.”

“You like that idea?” Kurt shivered as Noah licked a trail up to his chin, then bit gently on his bottom lip. “Me, sucking your cock? Or you, sucking mine?”

It had to be Noah’s presence that did it, because while Kurt didn’t usually like _thinking_ words like those, much less hearing someone else say them, at this moment all he could do was jam his tongue into Noah’s mouth and kiss him hard while he came. It took Noah less than thirty seconds to follow suit.

“Whoa.” Noah’s breathless voice was appreciative, and a little bit impressed. “Just for the record, you can kiss me like that any time. Seriously.”

“I really don’t want—” said Kurt, then paused and laughed. “All right, I guess I do. I never thought I did. On, um, videos? It’s kind of gross watching men do it to each other.”

“Hey, no need to justify what you like to watch. After all, pornography is in the loin of the beholder.”

Kurt had to bury his face in Noah’s chest to muffle his giggles. “You should have used that one at my dad’s party.”

Now Noah sounded smug. “Maybe I was saving it for you.”

There was more kissing after that, but being in bed with Noah after sex was less pleasant and more sticky. Eventually they managed to stumble the few steps into the bathroom.

“The condoms,” said Kurt. He put a hand on Noah’s back. “You were prepared. I’m sorry I really haven’t been. I’ve relied on you to take care of all of this. And — I mean, we haven’t even _talked_ about getting tested for… things we might need to get tested for.”

Noah looked surprised. “I did kind of make some assumptions about you being clean, Kurt, but _I_ get tested whenever I have sex with somebody new. Preferably before.” He leaned over, one foot already in the shower, and kissed him. “I did that months ago. All clear. But — yeah, I’d be in favor of you getting your own stash of supplies.”

Noah got dressed while Kurt put on last night’s discarded pajamas.

“I think I’ll have to go up first and make sure no one else is awake.” Kurt hugged Noah fiercely. “Even with Finn’s surprise visit, this was so good.”

“Yeah,” Noah agreed. “I’ve been pissed off about the wedding, but this helped a lot.”

“You were? Why?”

Noah wasn’t smiling now. “Because you’re going to be there with your dad and Carole and Finn, but not with me.”

 _Isn’t that your choice?_ Kurt wanted to say. He nodded slowly.

“What do you think people would do if, instead of you walking down the aisle with Santana and me walking with Mercedes, you and I —“ Kurt began, but Noah blew out an angry breath.

“Don’t even. We’re not going to make a big statement at your dad’s wedding.”

“I didn’t say we were _going_ to,” Kurt said quietly. “Come on. Bring your bag up and wait at the top of the stairs.”

When Kurt opened the door to the first floor, there was just enough morning light filtering in through the window to allow them to see. Kurt let Noah follow him out, then nudged him forward toward the front door with a quick kiss. He hoped Noah would take it as reassurance rather than as an apology.

Once Noah was gone, he locked the front door again and leaned against it, letting out a big sigh.

“Sorry if I freaked you out,” said Finn from the couch.

Kurt came over and sat beside where Finn was huddled under an old quilt. “It was okay.”

“Yeah? I didn’t wreck anything?”

Finn sounded pretty wrecked himself. Kurt put a hand on his ankle through the quilt. “No. So… now do you want to tell me what happened last night?”

“I guess? I mean…” Finn struggled to sit up, letting his bare legs stick out from under the quilt to rest on the floor. “It feels stupid to say it out loud.”

“Did you see Michael?”

Finn nodded, staring at his hands in his lap. “We parked in his station wagon. You know, the BMW model 5 that was redesigned last year?”

Kurt maintained a straight face. “Yes. I know.”

“Awesome car. The seats fold flat in the back. It wasn’t the most comfortable place, but it was…” As he closed his eyes, another tear made its way down his cheek to his chin, one of many. He cleared his throat. “It was amazing.”

“Not the car.”

Finn didn’t even crack a smile. “Not the car.”

“Finn… there’s nothing stupid about that.”

Finn shook his head emphatically. “Not that. It was what he said, after.”

Kurt tried not to dwell on the details of what the _before_ had entailed. “What did he say?”

“I said… we could dance at the wedding together. And he laughed, and said _yeah, that’s never gonna happen._ And I asked why, and he said something like people expect certain things from guys like me and him, and that wasn’t one of them.”

“Probably not, no.”

He glanced over at Kurt. “That _sucks.”_

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed.

“So that’s when I got out of the car and walked home.”

“Oh, wow.” Kurt couldn’t help grinning. “I bet he didn’t like that very much.”

“No. Eventually he stopped following me and drove away. I think he was more worried about being spotted than anything else.” Finn sighed. “How do you and Puck _do_ it? All that hiding and pretending?”

“Well, you weren’t around to hear me in eighth and ninth grade, but I cried a lot. And, uh.” He felt his cheeks get hot. “We spent a lot of time on the phone together last summer.”

“I did hear some of that.” Finn smiled faintly. “You’re being really patient with me considering I told you a million times I wasn’t gay.”

“Well, you’re not. Are you?”

“I’m _something_. I don’t know all the right words, but… I’m definitely not straight. And it’s not like I don’t like girls, Kurt. They’re awesome. But I just…” He started to cry again. “I didn’t know I could even care about _anybody_ like this. And he’s…” He trailed off, but he let Kurt reach out and hug him.

 _He’s a jerk,_ Kurt wanted to say. He didn’t, although it was obvious that was what Finn had been thinking. But that had been true about Noah, too, not so long ago. All the awful things Noah had done to him hadn’t stopped _him_ from being in love with Noah anyway.

“Maybe you can tell me some of the good things about Michael,” suggested Kurt, while Finn sat back and wiped his eyes on the heel of his hand. “If that wouldn’t be too hard. I know he’s not always terrible.”

Finn laughed quietly. “Totally not always.”

“I’m just feeling a little, you know. Protective of you.”

“I get it. Really, because… when I realized the guy you’d been talking to on the phone had been _Puck_ all along? I felt the same way.” He grimaced. “Believe me, there’s stuff I know about him that makes me wonder if he’d be a good boyfriend for anybody, much less you. You deserve way better.”

“Yes,” said Kurt. “I know I do. And I also don’t feel like I’m settling. Well… not most of the time, anyway.”

“Kurt.” Finn looked hard at him. “You _are._ You’re _totally_ settling. You do know that, right?”

Kurt shifted uneasily on the couch. “I don’t know. He’s really good to me.”

“Yeah, except for the part where he ignores you in public. You really think you should put up with that? Like, at all?”

“I thought you were on our side,” Kurt protested. “You spoke up for us with Dad.”

“I think it’s your decision. That doesn’t mean I think Puck’s right for making you do it.” Finn’s expression was as determined as Kurt had ever seen it. “Michael, he’s so… he’s talented, and funny and smart, and… fuck, Kurt, I’m _really_ into him. But I’m not gonna go along with lying about it. If he can’t be honest with his friends and family, I can’t be with him. That’s the dealbreaker. I think your dad thought it was for you, too.”

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, and he realized he didn’t know what to say. He felt the pricking of tears at the back of his throat. “It — it was. And then… I don’t know. I think I got sick of waiting for it to get better. I explained to your mom, we tried everything. We tried ignoring each other, and we tried being enemies, and we tried being friends, and none of it worked. So we’re trying being closeted boyfriends.”

“Yeah?” Finn looked at him doubtfully, and sighed. “I guess it sounded pretty good this morning from across the room.”

Kurt picked up a couch pillow and mashed it into Finn’s face while he protested. “Believe me, I waited long enough to have that. You waited, what, a week?”

“Shortest relationship I’ve ever been in. Not counting Santana. I was barely _in like_ with her, much less in love.”

“So what are you going to do today? He’s going to be at the wedding. You’ll have to deal with him.”

“I’ve ignored his twenty-seven voice mail messages so far,” Finn said grimly. “I think I can ignore whatever he’s gonna say in person.”

“Finn!” Kurt seized Finn’s phone from the coffee table and scrolled through the notifications. “Twenty-nine, now. Don’t you even want to hear what he has to say?”

“No.” He huddled under the quilt. “Whatever it is, it’s just gonna make me cry again. I barely got any sleep as it is.”

“Well, go back to bed. You still have hours before we have to be up.” Kurt stood up and dragged Finn back to his feet, grumbling the whole way. “Come on.”

He got Finn to crawl back into his bed with a minimum of arguing. Finn stared up at him from the pillow with hollow, red-rimmed eyes.

“At least he taught me how to dance with my mom.”

Kurt nodded, a lump in his throat. “I’m glad that worked out, at least.”

“I don’t know if I should feel glad about last night or wish it had never happened.” He rolled over onto his side. “Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone this fast? Even if I barely know him?”

“I think every story ever written would say yes,” said Kurt. “That doesn’t mean every love story works out. A lot of them turn out to be tragedies. But, if you notice, most people like them anyway.”

“Yeah,” Finn whispered. “I guess I always thought I would be more sensible than most people.”

Kurt left Finn in the darkened room and went back upstairs in his pajamas. He texted Noah: _Finn is sad, but I think everything is okay._ He didn’t really expect an answer back, considering how early it was and how little sleep they’d gotten, but Noah replied right away.

_Do I need to go over to Michael’s house and break his nose?_

_Possibly. But I don’t think that would result in a very capable guitarist. Can you wait until after the wedding?_

There was a pause, and then, _Kurt, you know I want to be with you._

 _You are with me,_ he replied. _Let’s not worry about it right now. Last night was so good._

Noah didn’t reply again after that. Kurt sat on the couch staring at Finn’s phone, wondering what Finn would do to him if he listened to the twenty-nine voice mail messages from Michael. In the end, however, his train of thought was interrupted by a hesitant knock on the front door.

Kurt wasn’t sure he’d heard it at first, but when it came again, he went to the door and peered out the side window. Michael was standing on the porch shivering in his calf-length trench coat. He looked just as wrecked as Finn had.

Kurt opened the door, but he didn’t move out of the doorway. “Can you give me a good reason why I should let you in?”

“Because it’s twenty-six degrees out here?”

He glared at Michael. “Finn is currently crying in his bed because of you. You do not get to see him unless he asks to see you.”

“I just want to tell him I’m sorry,” Michael insisted. “I want him to—“

“You don’t get it,” he hissed. “What you _want_ doesn’t apply here. He said no, and that’s it. You are hereby cut off.”

Michael turned away from Kurt, curtailing what sounded like an angry sob. It was enough to make Kurt feel bad for him, but he stayed where he was while Michael settled down.

“Can I…” He glanced behind Kurt into the house. “Can you and I talk?”

“I already said, _after_ the wedding. God, you really are the most entitled ignoramus, aren’t you? Can’t you take _no_ for an answer?”

“I’m trying.” Michael dropped his hands to his sides, taking a long breath. “I — I really am, Kurt. I’ve been up all night thinking about what you said at the party.”

“Yes, well, for at least a portion of that time, you were taking advantage of Finn in the back of your BMW.” Kurt started to close the door, but he paused when Michael put a hand on the door frame.

“I didn’t take advantage of him,” he said hoarsely. He looked right into Kurt’s face. “That’s the truth. It was totally mutual.”

“Except for the part where you _knew_ it wasn’t going to result in a honest, open relationship, and you didn’t disclose that fact before you got him in your car.” He picked Michael’s fingers off the frame one at a time. “Go home. Our parents have a big day today, and it’s not going to be ruined because you’re a—“ Kurt huffed. “No, it doesn’t matter what you are. Just go home.”

He managed to shut the door this time. Michael stood there for another long moment, looking plaintive, then he turned around and trudged back down the sidewalk to his car. Kurt waited at the window until he was certain Michael wasn’t going to turn around and try again. No matter how bad he might feel for him, it was irrelevant, because Finn had a right to make his own decisions about his relationships.

Then he sat down on the couch in the living room, feeling more confused and annoyed than anything. He kept hearing Finn saying _you’re totally settling. You know that, right?_

“I’m not settling,” he whispered, but that answer didn’t feel nearly as clear as it had the day before.

Kurt spent most of the time between the ceremony and the reception helping Carole, but there were a few moments when he found himself with nothing to do. He parked himself outside her dressing room and waited as patiently as he could, trying not to hover.

“It was a beautiful wedding.” Rachel sat down beside him, smiling wistfully.

“It’s not over yet,” he said, smiling back. “We have a lot to do at the reception. But the music, the decorations, the choreography… it’s all going very well.”

She smoothed the satin of her red dress. “I can’t help but remember a year ago when you and I were struggling to come up with choreography to highlight five people with very different voices. And now look at us.”

“Things change,” he agreed.

“Not always.” She pressed her lips together. “Kurt, it was Noah who did that choreography. You asked him to help, before he even joined Glee. I remember that part, too.”

He felt his smile fall away, and tried to be calm. “Yes… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ve been putting two and two together. You and I have spent a lot of time together this past year, and… it’s hard not to notice certain things happening. I know Noah’s always been a special person to you, even when the two of you weren’t getting along.” She shrugged. “And I also want you to know I’m aware of what’s happening with Finn.”

“Oh.” That was unexpected. He searched her face. “Did—he talk to you?”

“Not today. He’s told me things in the past, about his feelings for… certain people. Today he’s been working very hard to make sure I know he loves me. I can only guess that means something happened with someone else.” She raised both eyebrows. “And I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with that incident last year with him and Santana.”

He crossed his legs, then uncrossed them, smoothing out his tuxedo pants. “I think you should be having this conversation with Finn.”

“I will. I just wanted you to know. I love Finn, no matter what, and I’m willing to fight for him.” She smiled briskly. “Anyway. If you ever need to talk about Noah, I think I might be in a unique position to appreciate his more positive qualities.”

Kurt felt himself blush. “I — yes. I can imagine you are. The two of you…” He made a vague, weak gesture. She laughed.

“We had our moments. I must say, Noah continues to surprise me.”

He bit his lip. “How much do you know about his involvement in theater?”

“Well, I know his father was an actor. I know he was in the summer production of _You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown_ at the Encore back in middle school _._ I wish I’d tried out for that. And this week he was part of your class production of _The Merchant of Venice._ Is there more?”

He nodded vigorously. “So much more. He’s been very private about it until now, but I think he’s starting to feel like he can—“

“Come out?” she suggested.

Kurt didn’t reply to that. “He’s always struggled with reading the written word, but the way he relates to a script is completely different. He has a sense of pacing and stage presence that you have to see to believe. It’s a little like how it was when we saw him dance “Lady is a Tramp” for Mercedes, only a hundred times more amazing.”

“That was pretty fantastic.” She stood up, touching his hand. “You can tell me more later. I’d better go find Finn. I’ll see you at the reception?”

He watched her go with a strange sensation of regret. Whatever Finn was going through with Michael, Kurt was guessing it wasn’t going to be good for Rachel — and, even if she could be challenging, he did consider her to be a friend. She didn’t deserve to be a consolation prize.

_Hi. Uh, thank you. Best man. Right. Uh…Well, I want to propose a toast to my mom…who is so awesome. I mean… somehow even without one in the house, you taught me what it means to be a man. In Glee Club, uh, whenever two of us got together, we got a nickname. Rachel and I are Finchel. Rachel and Puck were Puckleberry. And today, a new union was formed. Furt. You and me, man. We’re brothers from another mother. And quite frankly, no one else has shown me as much as you about what it means to be a man. And over the past few weeks, uh, some stuff’s gone down. And I haven’t manned up like I should’ve. From now on? No matter what it costs me, I got your back. Okay? Even if it means getting a Slushie in the face every now and then. (The Glee Club laughs) You put this entire wedding together by yourself, Kurt. So as a thank you, I had the Glee Club put together a little number in your honor. You’re going to dance it with me, dude._

\- Finn at Carole and Burt's wedding in Glee 2x08 "Furt"

It wasn’t until much later, long after Finn’s best-man speech and surprise dance, that Kurt managed to steal another moment away from the smiles and kind words of the myriad guests who wanted to congratulate him. It was quiet in the hallway between the ballroom and the kitchen.  He paused there, exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Noah was beside him.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hey.” Kurt crossed his arms, then uncrossed them and made a conscious effort to let them hang naturally by his sides, which of course didn’t feel natural at all.

“You looked a little freaked out. I mean, I don’t think anybody else could tell, but…” Noah shifted to face the wall while a group of girls walked by, then returned his gaze to Kurt.

“It’s been an intense day,” said Kurt, as calmly as he could. “So, Finn’s dance. That was you?”

Noah shrugged. “And Mike and Brittany.”

“I bet.” Kurt stared him down until he looked away. “Yeah, I thought so. Bruno Mars? It’s not exactly your style.”

“No, but it’s totally Finn’s.”

Kurt clenched his fingertips into his palms. “You’re telling me that song was his choice?” Without waiting for an answer, he added, “When did you even rehearse that, anyway?”

“Last week. He told us he wanted to surprise you and we put the choreography together. Except I, uh…” Noah rubbed his neck with one hand. “I kind of told Finn he was a lost cause?”

“ _That’s_ why he said that to us yesterday?” Kurt turned up the glare full force, and Noah actually took a step away. “Nice. Very supportive.”

Noah snorted. “Hey, you weren’t there at rehearsal. Anyway, after that he went to Michael and asked him to teach it to him, and—“

“ _Michael_ taught him that choreography?”

“Would you keep it down?” Noah snapped. “He’s going to be even more pissed at me if I accidentally spill the beans about him at his mom’s fucking wedding.”

“I don’t think he’s mad at you at all. And nobody’s going to question Finn’s behavior today. People cry at weddings all the time.” But Kurt withdrew a little further into the hallway toward the kitchen, gesturing for Noah to follow him. Now they were huddled together out of sight of everyone except the servers passing through with trays.

“Yeah, but who cries through the entire reception?” Noah shook his head. “Seriously, I can’t believe he kept it together long enough to do that speech. What, are you telling me you didn’t like it?”

“It was — a little weird.” They were close enough together now that Kurt could smell Noah’s cheap aftershave. It was embarrassing to note that smell had become a turn-on. “Don’t you think? Telling me _I’m_ the one who taught him the most about what it means to be a man?”

“You think that’s weird?” Noah’s smile was a little sad. “You’re pretty fucking impressive man, Kurt. It’s gonna be a while before we can live up to your example.”

Kurt scowled at the wall. “Don’t tease me right now. I can’t handle it.”

“Kurt.” Noah grabbed his arm and made him look at him. “I’m not teasing.”

As he stared at Noah, he felt the tears that had been just under the surface all day rise up and threaten to break. “What makes either of you think I’m worth that sort of respect? I make stupid decisions, just like everybody else. I’m not perfect.”

“Nobody said you had to be. Isn’t that what that song was about?”

Noah stood there until it was clear Kurt wasn’t going to give any ground. Then he let go of his arm and took a couple steps away, looking like he’d tasted something bitter.

“I just came to tell you my set was starting soon, if you wanted to listen to me sing.”

It was a stupid question — and an even stupider thing to tell him, considering they were all in one big room and Kurt would have no choice but to listen — but Kurt nodded anyway. Noah turned to walk away, and suddenly, Kurt felt a rush of inexplicable panic, as though something terrible might happen if he let Noah go at that moment.

“Finn whispered something to me on the dance floor,” he blurted.

Noah turned back warily.

“Okay? Yeah, I saw him do that.”

“Don’t you want to know what he said?”

“Well, I figured you’d tell me if you wanted to.”

Kurt took a breath. “He said… _you left that freaky sex toy on the nightstand between our beds.”_

Noah’s eyes flew open. He started to laugh at the same time Kurt did. “Oh, fuck.”

“I know.” He leaned on Noah to steady himself, shaking helplessly with giggles. “He said — he threw a t-shirt over it. I think he was afraid to touch it.”

For about thirty seconds, all they could do was try to contain their hilarity. Every time one of them would subside, the other one would crack up, and it would start all over again.

Then Noah reached out and grabbed him, hugging him hard.

“I’m sorry I’m such a fucking mess, Kurt,” he whispered.

“I think we’re all a mess inside,” Kurt whispered back. “It’s definitely not just you.”

He chuckled before letting Kurt go, then straightened out his tuxedo. He looked a lot more like his usual cocky self. “I better see you on the dance floor while I’m up there singing.”

He smiled. “Count on it."

Kurt caught Finn crying again when they were getting ready for school the next day. He grabbed a tissue when he saw Kurt watching and scowled, wiping his eyes.

“Allergies,” he said belligerently.

“Don’t bother. Not with me.” Kurt brushed a hand through Finn’s tousled bedhead hair and judiciously fixed the collar of his shirt. “Did you even talk to him once at the wedding?”

“Only about the choreography.” He looked hopelessly over Kurt’s shoulder at himself in the mirror. “Do you have some of those eye drops? The kind that make your eyes less red?”

Kurt found the small bottle in the medicine cabinet and brought it to Finn. He watched him struggle, blinking and squinting, for about thirty seconds before grabbing the bottle back and urging him to sit down on Kurt’s vanity stool. “Hold still.”

Finn sat, meek and miserable, while Kurt dripped liquid into his eyes. “I just hope Mr. Schue doesn’t ask him to accompany us at sectionals. I think I know his schedule well enough that I can avoid him in the hallways for a while.”

“Of course you know his schedule.” Kurt sighed. He wasn’t going to tell Finn he’d done his best to chase Michael away the night before. “I’m sorry. This really sucks for you.”

“I totally brought it on myself, man.” He blinked more intentionally, then smiled bravely up at Kurt. “That’s better. Thanks.”

Kurt squeezed his shoulder, hoping he was conveying the right amount of care and affection without being totally righteous and smug about Finn’s reaction. _Of course I’m right. He wasn’t nearly good enough for you._

The smug feeling persisted all the way to school, up until the point that he walked through the east entrance and stopped. Finn nearly ran into him.

“Dude,” he said, then stopped and squinted. “Wait a second, is that —?”

“Karofsky,” Kurt whispered. The boy in question was standing beside Azimio near the junior lockers, talking casually. When he spotted Kurt, he smirked and gave him a little nod. Kurt staggered back a step, feeling suddenly dizzy.

“I thought you said he’d been expelled?” Finn sounded outraged. Then he saw Kurt’s face, and he blanched, reaching out to grab his elbow. “Come on. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m fine,” Kurt protested, but he followed Finn’s lead toward the office. At least it was in the opposite direction from Dave Karofsky. The idea of walking toward him was nauseating.

Finn signed them both in and took a seat beside Kurt in the reception area. He dug his phone out of his duffel bag. “I’m gonna call your dad.”

Kurt couldn’t even bring himself to argue. All he could do was sit with the impending reality that Karofsky was back at McKinley.  He hadn’t realized until that moment just how much of a relief it had been not to have to worry about seeing him. And now it looked like he was right back where he’d started — back to a daily routine of terror and uncertainty. He swallowed the hot lump in his throat as Finn finished his call and put his phone away.

“He’s on his way.”  

Kurt wrapped his arms around his elbows. “It’s not like he can do anything about it, Finn.”

“Maybe he can.” But Finn didn’t look any more hopeful than Kurt felt. They sat in anxious silence for several minutes before Finn added, “You deserve better than this, Kurt.”

“Well, sometimes things aren’t that simple,” he snapped. “Sometimes you get what you get.”

“And you don’t throw a fit?” Finn looked dubious. “That’s what my mom always said to me when I was a kid and I didn’t like whatever was being offered to me. _You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit._ ”

Kurt stared at the floor. “I always thought it was ‘and you don’t get upset.’”

“Whatever. That works too.”

“ _Get_ doesn’t rhyme with _fit,”_ Kurt pointed out.

“Yeah, but you say _get_ like _git,_ not like _net.”_ Finn shook his head. “Why are we arguing about this?”

Kurt didn’t answer. He watched the window nervously, trying not to flinch every time someone taller or larger than average walked by. At some point, though, the person who walked by was his dad, accompanied by Carole, and he stood up, feeling restless. Carole immediately gave him a big hug.

“We’re going to figure this out,” she told him fiercely. It just about made him cry to hear that tone in her voice.

“Thanks,” he whispered back.

Finn was reluctant to go to class at all, but Carole managed to convince him, pointing out that every bit of academics he missed would make it more likely he’d have to do summer school. That left Kurt and Carole and his dad to try to get some kind of answers from Principal Sylvester about what was really going on.

Kurt could barely say a word through the entire conversation. He listened to Sue’s meaningless explanation about the school board overriding her decision in near-silence.

 _I can’t go back to the way it was,_ he thought, trying not to panic.

By the time the meeting was over, his dad was fuming.

“I saw the way that boy talked to you,” he spat at Kurt, pacing back and forth. “Even in front of his father, he was barely polite.”

Kurt avoided Carole’s eyes. “It’s not always that bad.”

His dad paused to face him, breathing hard from even that little amount of exertion. “You can’t lie to me anymore. You’re scared.”

“Burt,” Carole said. He cursed and wheeled away.

“He’s not the only person who ever threatened me.”

“Oh, that’s supposed to make me feel better?” His dad’s head was shaking, back and forth. “No. I’m not going to let this go on. Kurt, you’re not staying here. We’re taking you out of this school, today.”

Adrenaline propelled himself to his feet. “Dad!”

“This is not your choice,” his dad bit out. He looked at Carole, who nodded. “Now, we already talked about this, and the cost to send you to Dalton would be just about the same as the amount we’d saved for —“

“Dalton?” he yelped. “That’s — since when have you talked about this? It’s an hour and a half away.”

“It’s not so far to keep you safe.” Carole put a hand on his shoulder. Even through her frustrated tears, she was more calm than either of them. “We did our homework, Kurt. There aren’t any other schools in Ohio that have a zero-tolerance non-discrimination policy.”

“You’re the one who told us about Blaine’s experience there,” his dad reminded him. “He said it’s good. That the kids can focus on academics, the things that matter. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Well, yes, but…” He bit his lip, his mind racing. “Dad, we can’t afford Dalton.”

“You don’t worry about that.” His dad’s stony expression hadn’t changed. “You are the most important person in the world to me. _The most._ And I’m not going to argue about this anymore.”

There were too many conflicting thoughts inside him to express them all. He couldn’t say _I don’t want to,_ because it wasn’t that simple. No, he didn’t want to leave his dad, especially not while he was recovering from his heart attack, but Carole was there, and Finn. They would watch over him. The fear about what would happen to Glee without him was eclipsed by the astounding relief that Dalton was surely too far away for Karofsky to follow. And then there was the question of _what about Noah._ He was pretty sure his dad wasn’t going to take that into consideration. He wasn’t sure how to say that it might be the most important part of all.

“Just finish out the day,” said Carole. “Let your teachers know your plans. We’ll take care of the paperwork and call Dalton to get you enrolled. And then after school, you can pack.” She hugged him again. “This will be better.”

This time he didn’t hug her back. “I hope so,” was all he could say.

From their basement room, Kurt could hear his dad answering the front door, and the quiet murmur of low voices. He didn’t bother to go upstairs. Eventually, there was a soft knock on the basement door.

“I’m down here,” he called, setting another pile of pants in the box on his bed. The door opened and his dad’s head peered down.

“You ready for guests, Kurt?”

“You can just say _it’s Noah,_ dad.”

Noah appeared at the top of the stairs, glancing around, like anybody else would be down there. He edged along the outside of the staircase, scowling. Kurt went back to packing.

“So have you come to yell at me for not consulting you first, too?”

“I’m more pissed at the school board for being assholes. If I’m going to yell at anybody, it’s going to be them.” But when Kurt turned to look at Noah, he could see he was wary, like Kurt might personally attack him at any moment.

“Please don’t,” he said quietly. “It’s not going to help.”

When Noah sat down on the bed beside the box of pants, Kurt sat across from him on Finn’s bed.

“So… that’s it, huh? You’re transferring to Dalton?”

“I guess so.”

The awkward silence went on for too long, until Noah sighed and reached out for Kurt’s hands. He took them reluctantly.

“I guess I can’t blame you.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes. “What, you think this was _my_ choice?”

“Why not? You get awesome academics and a safe place to be and the fucking Warblers.” Even though the content was harsh, his actual words came out soft, like he didn’t have enough energy to imbue them with the vitriol they deserved. “Who wouldn’t want that?”

Kurt just stared at him for a long moment, his lips pressed together.

“I was really hoping you’d be on my side.”

“What, the side of you not getting killed by a psychopathic hockey player?” Noah snorted. “I’m not sure how many fucking _sides_ there are here, Kurt.”

“How about the one where we never get to see each other? Things were starting to be —” He cut himself off.

“Yeah,” Noah said bitterly. “What was it starting to be? Tell me. Tell me you thought things were getting better between us. Like I was almost a _real_ boyfriend.”

The words died in Kurt’s mouth before he could speak them. All he could do was shake his head. Noah made a contemptuous noise in his throat.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He rose to his feet. “How about you let me be the one to call you.”

Kurt didn’t bother to watch him going up the stairs.

Noah didn’t shout or make noise; the door didn’t even slam. Still, a couple minutes later, Finn appeared, puttering around in the room in his completely unsubtle way as he eyed Kurt sitting there.

“Finn.”

“I, uh.” Finn picked up one of Kurt’s decorative pillows, then put it back down again. He glanced around the room in dismay. “Jeez. How are you going to fit all this stuff into your dorm room?”

Kurt couldn’t help but smile a little. “I don’t think I have to bring it all.”

“Yeah, but you’re going to try.”

“I don’t even know where I’m going to be staying. Maybe I’ll have a roommate.”

Finn picked up one of the flattened boxes and started to put it together. “Maybe he’ll be cool.”

“Maybe,” Kurt allowed.

They worked in silence as Kurt resumed packing. Finn managed to assemble six boxes before Kurt came across the first thing that made him cry. After a minute, Finn reached across to the nightstand and grabbed the box of tissues, passing it to Kurt.

“Thanks.” He blew his nose, then carefully set the copy of _Shadow of the Giant_ into an open box. Finn watched him do it.

“He’s not gonna be mad for very long.”

“He will be as long as he thinks I’m doing this to avoid dealing with him.”

“But you’re not.”

“No,” said Kurt scornfully, and then, again, more quietly. “No. Like Dad said… he’s scared for me. Dad, I mean. I don’t need him to go through that, not with his heart…”

Finn nodded, which made him feel even worse. If Finn doubted his words, he didn’t say anything, or even insinuate it. He just accepted Kurt’s statement at face value. But Noah hadn’t.

 _And Noah knows you better than anyone,_ Kurt thought, shuffling through the clothes in the back of his closet without really looking at them. _Is he blinded by jealousy? Or is he the one who’s actually seeing the truth?_

He sighed and thumbed through the long list of missed calls and ignored voice mails on his phone until he found Blaine’s number. Then he hit redial.

“ _Kurt!”_ Blaine said. He sounded nothing but excited. _“I haven’t heard from you in forever. How was your dad’s wedding?”_

“It was great,” he said. “I can tell you all about it soon.”

_“I’d like that. I know you must be super busy, getting ready for sectionals, but… do you think you might have time to get together?”_

“I think that’s going to be a lot easier, starting tomorrow.”

For the first time all day, as he explained the situation to Blaine, Kurt began to feel excited, too. He caught the expression on Finn’s face as he wrapped up the call. When he hung up, he set the phone down and waited, but Finn didn’t say anything.

“Dad didn’t give me a choice,” Kurt said.

“I know.” Finn shrugged and set down the box. “I know how he can be about things. I can’t even say that you going to Dalton is a bad idea. All that with Karofsky was awful. But…”

“What?”

“I just can’t tell how you really feel about it.”

“I really feel a lot of things.” Kurt looked more closely at him. “What, am I that good an actor?”

“Yes.”

It was the most disquieting compliment Finn had ever given him. It stayed with Kurt for hours, long after he should have been asleep.

[ _https://youtu.be/IP9Ac-g86Mw_ ](https://youtu.be/IP9Ac-g86Mw)

_In every war there will be casualties_   
_Even family members and best friends bleed_   
_Another tally on the body count  
So how many more until we're all bled out?_

_\- A Change of Pace, “Prepare the Masses”_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many of the members of the William McKinley Jazz Ensemble are unnamed on the show, although they appear in many scenes, so I have named a few of them. My OC Michael is [the redheaded guitar player from seasons one and two](http://nubianamy.tumblr.com/post/145083626004/oc-in-those-magic-changes), played by Spencer Conley (this was before Derik Nelson took over). The bass player, otherwise known as Floppy-Haired Bass Dude, is Scott, the drummer is Jason, and the Asian violinist is Son Mi.
> 
> On a related note, if you have not yet seen [this](https://youtu.be/XJLV_vaP9VY), you really should. 
> 
> -amy

Noah didn’t call him that night, or the following day, or the week after that. Every time something new happened as he made the transition to Dalton, like when he met his roommate Lawrence, or after he attended his first class, or when he ate his first meal in the cafeteria, Kurt wondered if he should text Noah about it. But the words _how about you let me be the one to call you_ lingered, and he decided respecting boundaries was more important than how much he was missing talking to Noah. It was just like what Kurt had said to Michael when he’d tried to come in the house to talk to Finn the night after the wedding. _He said no, and that’s it._

“Who’s that?” Lawrence asked when Kurt set a framed photo on his desk.

“My dad,” he said, “and my stepmom and stepbrother.”

“Oh. I thought it might be your boyfriend?” He watched Kurt for his reaction.

“I don’t have a boyfriend right now,” said Kurt.

The response felt true, even though it hurt to say it. He listened politely as Lawrence showed him pictures on his phone and chattered happily about his own boyfriend Omar, who lived in a dorm on the east side of campus.

It felt a little strange to realize he didn’t even have one picture of himself and Noah together. He had photos from Glee in which Noah was there, but that was about it. Certainly he didn’t have any of Noah looking at him like a boyfriend would look. It was going to be almost too easy to erase Noah from his life.

Blaine lived in the dorm next door. He came over to visit Kurt almost every day, sometimes just to say hello, but he also brought him little things, like flyers about social events and a bag of coffee from his favorite local shop.

Lawrence appeared a little star-struck the first time Blaine visited. “You do know he’s the _lead soloist_ of the Warblers?” he said excitedly, closing the door behind Blaine as he left. “Plus he’s gorgeous!”

Kurt couldn’t deny that was true. “We’re just friends,” he assured Lawrence, who looked unconvinced.

“You sure make friends quickly.”

One evening Blaine handed Kurt a CD with a grin. “Don’t worry, I didn’t make you a mixtape. It’s all the stuff the Warblers rehearsed in the last two seasons. If you’re going to audition, it definitely doesn’t hurt to know our back catalog.”

“I’m absolutely going to audition,” Kurt agreed. “Okay, it might be a little weird singing opposite the New Directions at competitions, but I wouldn’t miss the chance to sing with an all-boys ensemble.”

As it turned out, the audition was no more than a formality, owing to Kurt’s reputation with Blaine. The three boys in the council shook his hand and welcomed him with enthusiasm.

Even more than singing with the Warblers, however, Kurt wanted to find out about opportunities for theater. During his study break after lunch on Wednesday, Blaine took him to the fine arts department. Together they studied the bulletin board in the hallway.

“Shakespeare club,” Blaine pointed out. “And, oh, here’s an audition for a play they’re doing in March. What’s _Twelve Angry Men?”_

“Really?” Kurt excitedly tore off a tab listing the audition contact. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. There aren’t too many plays where the actors are all male.”

Being at an all-boys school was even more distracting than Kurt had expected it to be. Not only did it give him multiple opportunities to admire the male form, he also found himself getting checked out by guys walking down the street on a daily basis.

“It’s obviously not my clothes,” Kurt said to Blaine over coffee, shaking his head in confusion, “since I’m wearing this uniform. I suppose with the no-bullying policy in place, everyone feels more free to… to _look,_ without worrying about being noticed doing it?”

Blaine grinned at him. “You really think that’s all that’s going on, Kurt?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I hate to break it to you, but…” Blaine leaned in closer over the table, bringing his voice down to a fake whisper. “You’re really hot.”

Kurt laughed nervously, feeling himself blush. “I — well, I’m definitely not the only one.”

“No, that’s true. But now you’re seeing all the people who were already checking you out in secret before.” Blaine arched an eyebrow, then let his eyes rake over Kurt’s body, making him blush even more. “See what I mean? You’ll just have to get used to it.”

“Being objectified?”

“Being _admired,”_ Blaine corrected.

It wasn’t a bad feeling, but Kurt had no experience with it. The first time a boy approached him at lunch, Kurt was halfway through his eggplant piccata before he realized he wasn’t just being super friendly.

“I think somebody just hit on me,” he whispered to Lawrence.

“Right on.” Lawrence nodded in appreciation. “Was he cute?”

“I — I guess?” Kurt had to think about it for a moment, but the boy was already gone.

“Well, keep an eye out for him. Unless you’re not looking.”

That was another question Kurt had never asked himself before. For the past three years, he’d really only looked at one boy like that.

“I kind of have a type,” Kurt admitted.

Lawrence nodded again. “Well, there’s no reason not to be discerning.”

He also realized, the first time he had to do it, that he had no experience with the words _no, thanks._ He tried to explain, over the phone to Finn, how bad he felt about saying it.

“I just don’t think hearing no would feel very good,” he said.

Finn just laughed at him. _“Dude, straight guys get very used to hearing no. You’d better learn how to say it. I mean, either you learn how to be okay with no, or you stop asking.”_

“Or you become a total creep and learn how to pressure people into doing what you want,” said Kurt. When there was silence on the other end, he added, “Not that you would ever do that.”

_“No, I wouldn’t.”_

Kurt frowned. “Did Michael do that to you?”

_“Not until I said no. But I think… what you said, that might actually be what he always did before? And I’m thinking he was used to getting what he wanted. Like, with me, that might have literally been the first time he didn’t.”_

“Finn, is he _still_ trying to get you to—?” He tried to stifle his outrage.

“ _Only when nobody’s around.”_ Finn sighed. _“I guess that’s why I don’t want to run into him at school.”_

“Because he’s being a total creep!”

 _“No… well, I guess he is, but that’s not the problem."_ He sounded completely miserable. _"The problem is I sometimes forget why I said no to begin with.”_

“Well, he needs to stop bugging you. You _did_ say no. If it gets really awful, would you tell me? Or -- or somebody? Because that is really not okay.”

_“Did Puck tell you who he brought to Glee to replace you?”_

Kurt noticed Finn didn’t answer his question. “No, we’re not talking to each other right now.”

_“I’d kind of guessed that. He gets in everybody’s face about everything when you’re not around.”_

“So who is it?”

_“Lauren Zizes.”_

“From A.V. Club? I didn’t know she could sing.”

_“I don’t know if she can either. She showed up because she found Puck locked in a portapotty.”_

Kurt sat up straight. “What?!?”

_“He said Karofsky and Azimio locked him in there when he went to the football team and tried to get one of them to join Glee.”_

“Oh, my god. Was he okay? That’s horrible.”

_“He looked pretty down today in Glee. I saw him and Rachel talking in the hallway. I guess they have something in common, huh?”_

“Somebody locked _her_ in the portapotty?”

_“No, they’re both feeling kind of ignored. Even if Lauren made him do seven minutes of heaven with her. He said it kind of rocked his world.”_

“She—“ He tried not to grimace. “That sounds like extortion.”

_“Whatever. It worked. At least he got us a twelfth member for sectionals.”_

He paced across the tiny dorm room and back. “Finn, he’s the one who told _me_ to leave _him_ alone. What am I supposed to do?”

_“Nothing. Except I know you miss him, too. You guys always got through this stuff before. Just call him. He didn’t do anything wrong.”_

“You were the one who was telling me I was settling for him.”

_“And you were the one telling me it was worth it.”_

Kurt stopped mid-stride. “Finn… are you saying you’re thinking about saying yes to Michael because of _me?”_

 _“No.”_ The word was a whisper. _“I’m thinking about doing that all on my own. I’m saying I would understand why you did it, if you did. Because missing somebody is sometimes worse than holding on to your ideals.”_

Hearing Finn say that made it easier not to call Noah that night, but it didn’t make Kurt feel any better about what was going on with Finn and Michael. After considering several different numbers in his phone, he finally went looking for one he didn’t already have. Luckily, there weren’t too many listings for Zizes in the Lima directory.

 _“This is Lauren,”_ she said suspiciously, when he finally tracked her down.

“Uh… hi there. I’m Kurt Hummel. I hear you’ve replaced me in Glee Club.”

_“I know who you are. How’s tricks at that fancy boys’ school?”_

“Less violent and more academically rigorous than McKinley.”

_“It wouldn’t take much.”_

He laughed nervously. “Yeah. Well… I’m calling because — I suppose I wanted to thank you? Finn told me you rescued N- Puck from the portapotty after Karofsky locked him in there.”

_“He needed a good hosing down after that, I’ll tell you.”_

“I imagine.” He rinsed out Pavarotti’s water dish and carefully set it back into his cage. “So I thought I would also ask that you not… that you please leave him alone.”

 _“Excuse me?”_ She sounded amused.

He tried not to lose his nerve, but it was hard to maintain the appropriate amount of indignant energy over the phone. “You heard me. He doesn’t deserve to be extorted, even if your presence is allowing Glee club to go to sectionals.”

_“Kurt, honey, have you ever heard of the term ‘beard’?”_

“I —“ He shut his mouth with a click. “Oh. Really?”

_“Yeah. Puck knows I like girls. And I don’t know Puckerman’s precise sexual orientation, but he’s obviously already in love with somebody else. I’m thinking you know who that is.”_

“I might,” he whispered.

_“So, yeah. You think you could give him a call? He’s been kind of useless at Call of Duty since you left.”_

He felt even more awful now. “I can’t. Just… don’t tell him I called you?”

_“Pussy. Not sure what you think you’re proving by letting him pine over you. You could at least do him the courtesy of breaking up with him.”_

He stammered a good-bye and hung up. After that, he went off to sit in his bunk and hide for a little while. He didn’t feel any less afraid of Lauren, but at least it seemed he didn’t have to worry about her taking advantage of Noah, at least not in that way. He decided instead to try calling another not-quite-ally.

Rachel picked up on the second ring. _“Kurt!”_

“I’m on a fact-finding mission, Rachel,” he interrupted, before she could derail him with questions. “Tell me honestly: did Lauren Zizes find Noah in the portapotty?”

_“No. But that’s his cover story. I wasn’t about to provide him with one, even though he asked.”_

“He wanted _you_ to pretend to be his girlfriend?”

 _“Pretend… what?”_ She sounded honestly confused. “ _I don’t think he was pretending anything.”_

“Never mind. So where _was_ Noah for twenty-four hours, if he wasn’t in the portapotty?”

_“I didn’t pry, but I’m assuming it involved alcohol and/or other illicit substances. He looked terrible today.”_

“Okay.” He sighed. “I guess I deserved that. Rachel, there’s another reason I’m calling. It’s about Finn. Can you please keep an eye on him for me?”

 _“I’m keeping both of them on him,”_ she said tightly.

“Did he tell you what happened with… that certain person we were talking about? I don’t want to say anything if you don’t—“

“ _Michael Lewis. I know more than I wanted to know. He’s letting Santana cover for him at school.”_ She sniffed. “ _I know yesterday wasn’t the first time he went to his house.”_

“Yesterday? He came to our house _yesterday?_ I told him to leave Finn alone.”

 _“No, Kurt,”_ Rachel said, her voice tired. _“You don’t understand. Finn was at Michael’s house.”_

“He… what?”

_“He went over there after dinner, and he didn’t get back until after ten.”_

He swallowed. “Finn told me… he told him no. That night before the wedding.”

_“He did. Just like he told Quinn no, for a while. And me. You might remember I’m not all that good at saying no to him, either. Even Ms. Pillsbury couldn’t counsel us into a better place.”_

Kurt rested his head in his hand. “I feel like an idiot. I’ve been trying to protect Finn and — what? He’s been leading Michael on all along?”

_“Kurt, it’s not that simple. He wants something and he’s scared of the repercussions. I thought you’d be the first one to understand.”_

“I _understand_ Finn didn’t tell me the whole story,” he snapped.

_“I suspect he’s ashamed of himself for not living up to your expectations. He doesn’t want to let you down, especially after what happened in the basement last year.”_

“He doesn’t want to let _me_ down?”

“ _He respects you.”_ She sounded bitter. _“I sometimes wonder if anybody’s really who they say they are.”_

“Yeah. I know that feeling.” Kurt stretched out, staring up at the springs of Lawrence’s bunk above him. “Now I’m questioning all the assumptions I was making about Michael. Is he really as awful as I think he is?”

_“Depends. Am I as awful as you think I am?”_

He had to smile. “You’re certainly annoying. And just as full of yourself. And, probably, just as talented.”

 _“Yes, well. As we have already established, Finn’s not going to be swayed by talent alone. I have to convince him I’m worth it, even if we don’t have… the kind of chemistry he apparently desires. I know he still loves me. And I told you, I’m not giving up.”_ She let out a brisk sigh. _“How are things going with the Warblers? I hope they’re not ignoring_ ** _your_** _talent.”_

“We’ll see. I’ve been invited to audition for a solo at sectionals. Do you have any suggestions as to what I might sing to highlight my voice?”

Her ideas were somewhat unorthodox, but Kurt had to admit they were topically and musically appropriate.

“I really don’t know what they’re going to do if I go in there and sing a Patty LuPone solo,” he admitted. “The Warblers council blanched at the idea of doing Duran Duran.”

_“Which would have been remarkable. Trust your instincts, Kurt.”_

He felt his smile fade. “I’m not entirely sure they’re worth trusting at the moment. Right now, I think I need to talk to someone who was in that locker room. Someone on the football team. Do you have Mike Chang's phone number?"

_ _

_Boyfriend troubles… I got that covered. Considering I’m usually the cause of them, I’d say I’m an expert._

\- Puck to Rachel, in 2x09 Special Education

The Warblers’ dressing room at sectionals was barely large enough to house all of them between sets. Kurt had just finished repairing the loose piece of trim on his blazer when Jeff tugged on his arm.

“Hey, Kurt? There’s a boy in the hallway asking for you. Someone from the New Directions.”

He rose to his feet, wondering if he should go out there or not. “Is he very tall?”

“No, but he’s cute. He didn’t look all that happy, though.”

Kurt wondered if he should ask if he was carrying a slushie, but he didn’t think even Noah would stoop to that kind of intimidation anymore. Just in case, he set aside his blazer before peering out into the hallway.

Noah was the only one out there. He was leaning against the cinder block wall, arms crossed and scowling at the floor. He didn’t look up when Kurt closed the door and joined him, crossing his own arms as he stood there beside him.

“That was such bullshit,” Noah growled.

Kurt shrugged. “I thought you guys sounded fine.”

“I’m talking about the fucking Warblers.” He looked up into Kurt’s face. The anger simmering there made Kurt want to cringe, but he held his ground. “What was that? Blaine and the Pips? I couldn’t even hear you at all.”

“I’m learning to blend,” said Kurt.

“ _You’re_ a fucking _star,”_ Noah hissed, jabbing Kurt in the chest. “You’re not _supposed_ to blend in. You’re supposed to _shine.”_

Kurt stared at him for a moment. Then he jabbed Noah back, knocking him off balance. “Look who’s talking.”

“Hey, this isn’t my stage. You know I don’t give two shits about Glee club.” But Kurt was pretty sure that was hurt he saw on Noah’s face under the swagger.

“No? Here’s what I think happened. Mr. Schue asked you to find somebody to join up to replace me. And nobody on the football team would listen to you, because they all suspect you’re _gay.”_ He saw Noah flinch at the word, and felt a vindictive triumph. “Yeah. And so you skipped a day of school to smoke and drink by yourself at your house, but being there just made you feel even worse because it’s so filthy and crowded, you can barely fit through the front door. Then you made up a story about Lauren finding you in the portapotty, got her to corroborate it, and arranged a deal for her to join Glee and pretend to be your girlfriend — but not until after you made out with Rachel and she turned you down.”

He could tell his words were cutting deep. Noah’s face was grey. “How did you—?”

“You know, I can’t help but think it’s appropriate that you’d arrange for your own beard, considering the absolute worst thing you can imagine would be somebody finding out what you _really_ like.”

Noah stiffened, pulling away. “You’d never tell anybody.”

“No.” He put a hand to his forehead with an incredulous laugh. “ _No._ I never would. That’s really all you care about?”

“No! Fuck, Kurt.” He almost looked awed. “I don’t know how you found all that stuff out, but — jeez, did you, like, install fucking video cameras in my house or something?”

“I’m just resourceful.” He saw Jeff poke his head out the door. Kurt gave him one shake of his head, and waited until Jeff withdrew to go on. “I noticed it wasn’t the Finn-and-Rachel show this year. Santana sounded fantastic, Mike and Brittany were brilliant, and Sam and Quinn charmed everyone.”

Noah’s mouth thinned. “So?”

“So what about you? Why didn’t you get a solo?”

“That’s not what I’m good for. I’m the muscle.” Noah put on his fake dangerous voice. “I’m Glee club’s am-badass-ador.”

Kurt couldn’t help it. He snickered. Noah looked outraged for a brief moment, then he rolled his eyes and smiled.

“You really are,” Kurt said. “And I’m sorry Karofsky and Azimio ruined your Bruce Springsteen speech. My secret spy video cameras tell me it was great. And did you really call me _your boy_ in front of the whole football team? Not particularly subtle.”

“It was a gang euphemism,” Noah muttered. “Jesus fuck.”

“Yes, well, you might want to ramp up your am-badass-ador role if you’re going to make any actual changes. Karofsky’s going to find another target any day now, and if it’s not you, it might very well be Finn. He’s not being very subtle either, considering he’s been sneaking over to Michael’s house.”

“He — no.” Noah was legitimately shocked. “He wouldn’t.”

“Looks like you’ve misjudged him yet again,” Kurt cooed. He slumped against the wall. “You’re not the only one who has. I feel so stupid. Was Michael accompanying the New Directions today?”

“Yeah, he’s here.” Noah appeared to be processing this. Kurt took a moment to observe Noah’s face as he thought, the way his brows knitted, the tension in his mouth, and felt a stabbing sense of loss. He batted it away irritably.

“Can you take me to him?”

“You’ll talk to fucking Michael but you won’t talk to me?”

“I am talking to you,” Kurt said impatiently. “If what you’re actually asking is, _you’ll talk to Michael but you won’t make out with me,_ the answer is _that’s correct.”_

The anger returned, just a flicker, but it passed quickly, leaving Noah red-faced. “You’re telling me you don’t miss that?”

“I’m telling you I’m sick of letting my body dictate my actions. Everybody’s so hung up on chemistry. We have stunning chemistry, Noah, and it hasn’t done us one tiny bit of good. Has it?” He waited while Noah continued to scowl at the floor. “Well? Are we any further along than we were last summer?”

“Well, _you’re_ a thousand times meaner,” Noah spat. “But if you’re asking me if I’m any less fucked up, that’s clearly a big fucking no. Finn obviously doesn’t trust me, and considering I tried to get Rachel to make out with me, he shouldn’t. You’ve given up on me. Mr. Schue thinks I’m good for nothing but intimidation. My Ma — “ He paused, trying to disguise the wobble in his voice, but it was obviously there. Kurt felt his heart break a little as Noah angrily wiped his eyes. “My Ma said she’d kick me out of the fucking house if my Nana finds out I’m gay. Which, to be honest, might be better than staying there the way is is. If Sarah wasn’t there, I’d have taken off a long time ago.”

“Noah,” he whispered. Noah shook his head emphatically.

“No, don’t go soft on me now. You’re right about all of it. It’s all true and I deserve it. Just stick with the Warblers.” He jerked his head down the hallway. “Come on. Michael’s down this way.”

Kurt followed a step behind him through the maze of hallways, passing various performers and adults as they walked. He chewed on his lip. “You helped with that staging today?”

“Some.”

“It was good. Having Sam and Quinn enter from the back, that was effective.”

Noah bowed his head. “Thanks.”

 _I knew that was your idea,_ he wanted to say, but the way he already felt like a raw nerve standing beside Noah, he wasn’t ready to let it get any more personal. But then Noah stopped outside an unmarked door, and he turned around and grabbed Kurt’s shoulder, making him gasp.

“Don’t let them treat you like a nobody,” he said urgently. “You’re _not.”_

“I know,” said Kurt. He felt impatient, because of course he knew he wasn’t. He had enough self-esteem to carry him through whatever Dalton threw at him. And then he realized what Noah was saying — and that it wasn’t about him at all. He took Noah’s shoulder, gripping it in the mirror of Noah’s own touch, and watched him suck in a breath. “I know, Noah. I know exactly what I’m worth.”

He stayed where he was as Noah swayed toward him, refusing to pull away. Noah’s hand brushed against Kurt’s jaw, just for a moment. Then his fingers slid off and returned to his side. He gritted his teeth.

“There,” he said. He banged on the door with the side of his fist. “Jazz band dressing room. You’re welcome.”

He was away down the hall before Kurt could say another word. The boy who answered the door looked startled to see Kurt, but he held the door open for him to come inside.

“Actually, can you ask Michael Lewis to come out?” Kurt asked. “I wanted to talk to him, but I don’t want to be accused of spying on behalf of the Warblers.”

The boy nodded. “Just a sec, I’ll get him. You guys sounded really good out there, Kurt.”

Kurt couldn’t even muster a smile for him, but he nodded and hoped it looked polite enough. “Thanks.”

He waited there in the hallway, hoping no one else from the New Directions would see him there. After that confrontation with Noah, he really didn’t feel like he could manage one more thing — and here he was anyway, attempting yet again to meddle in his stepbrother’s business.

When Michael stepped out into the hallway, Kurt was about ready to tell him _never mind, go back inside._ But the expression on Michael’s face wasn’t what he expected. It was hopeful.

“Hi.” Michael offered him a tentative smile. It was a far cry from his usual smirk. “Um… can I help you with something?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt admitted. “I have no idea what I’m doing here.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

“I’ll be honest.” He waited while a group of performers from the Hipsters passed by in the hallway behind him. “Finn told me he walked away from your car that Saturday night. I didn’t think he was going to see you again. But he has, hasn’t he?”

Michael hesitated, then gave him a tiny nod.

“He was there last night, at your house.”

Another nod. “But it was just to talk,” he added. “Honestly.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “For four hours? You expect me to believe…?”

Michael blew out a breath. “I know. Seriously, I _know._ I’m really trying here.”

He studied the lines on Michael’s face, the way he was standing. _Trust your instincts,_ Rachel had said. He didn’t think Michael was lying.

“This wasn’t what you’d bargained for,” he said.

Michael blinked his eyes fast and looked at the ceiling, muttering to himself. “Honestly? No.”

“And… you’re doing it anyway?” Kurt waited while Michael nodded. “This is your senior year. You’ll be out of here in a couple months. Why are you even bothering?”

“Because,” said Michael, his voice heated. He paused, looking at the floor, then sighed and looked up again. “Because he’s _Finn Hudson.”_

He was pleading with his hands, his eyes, for Kurt to understand. Kurt stared at him. Then he laughed out loud.

“How long have _you_ …?”

“Jesus,” he muttered. The blush was halfway up his neck and rising. “Just forget it, okay?”

“No, no,” Kurt said, his smile widening, “this is riveting. You are absolutely not getting away without telling me the whole story. From the beginning.”

Michael was beginning to sweat. “Kurt, people are going to come out here any second and announce the winners—”

“You think I have anywhere else to be?” Kurt arranged himself into a comfortable position against the wall and nodded at him. “Go on.”

To his credit, Michael gave it a good shot. He leaned in and spoke quickly, his words tumbling over one another. “Okay. We met at basketball tryouts, sophomore year, Finn was a freshman. He — well, you know what he looks like.” His eyes closed briefly and he exhaled, like the image on the inside of his brain was too much to handle. “He was so nervous, but on the court, he had this… competence. And that was before I knew he could _sing._ Holy shit, Kurt.”

Kurt grinned and cocked his head. “He’s not a performer. Not like you.”

“No,” Michael said, “he’s not. He’s _himself._ All the time.” He laughed helplessly. “That whole season, I was just… pissed at myself, for falling for a guy like that, because I figured he was going to end up being the apologetically nice one who said _thanks, but no thanks_ when I made my move? Not that I hadn’t noticed him before that.”

Kurt shook his head in disbelief. “You’re telling me — what, back when we were doing _Oklahoma!,_ you were _noticing_ Finn?”

“Well, jeez, Kurt, you should talk.” Michael made a face. “It was obvious to everybody how you felt about Noah Puckerman when we did _Grease,_ and he’s as hetero as they come.”

Kurt almost burst out laughing again, but he managed to restrain himself. “Okay. So your gaydar was a little faulty. Then sophomore year — I mean, your junior year, and — Glee club began.”

“Right. There was a point when Finn was hanging flyers in the boys’ locker room, looking for new members.” He shook his head. “I almost joined, but Mr. Grant had already selected me as student director of WMJE, and I couldn’t do both. Then I saw you guys rehearsing… I remember the day, it was in the auditorium, and you were doing “Don’t Stop Believing” in costume.”

“Finn was amazing,” said Kurt.

“Oh my fucking god,” Michael said distinctly.

Kurt snorted. “I think Rachel Berry agreed with that assessment.”

“Yeah. She still does.” He let out a long sigh. “Anyway. I saw Artie playing guitar, and I thought, _he should be focusing on singing, not doing double duty._ So I went to Mr. Schuester and Mr. Grant and I told them, if there’s a student glee club, why don’t we have student accompanists join from WMJE? So Jason and Scott and Son Mi and I said we’d skip jazz band rehearsal and come to Glee club instead. Not all the time, but sometimes.”

“Kind of a lot, actually.” Kurt paused. “I can’t believe I never noticed any of this before.”

“Hey, accompanists aren’t supposed to be noticed.” Michael shrugged. “We’re just supposed to be there when you need us. And not everybody in WMJE wanted to play for you, but I dragged them there anyway. Honestly, you guys are pretty entertaining, and I’m not talking about the songs. Going to Glee became kind of a spectator sport.”

“Fascinating. Back to Finn, now. When did you get an inkling you had a chance with him?”

He watched Michael’s eyes flick down the hall, then back to Kurt. He was beet-red now.

“It was… that Bon Jovi and Usher mash-up last year. Finn was crazy psyched. I found out later he was on pseudoephedrine, but at the time that was irrelevant.” He smiled at the floor. “He wouldn’t let us stop rehearsing. He just wanted to keep going, pushing it, trying to make it sound right. That’s what he said, that he could hear it in his head and it had to _sound right._ And… well, he’s not a very good dancer…”

“I’d noticed,” Kurt drawled.

“Yeah. So he was struggling with the choreography, and I think Noah and Mike Chang were a little strung out themselves, because they weren’t sticking around to help. It was just the two of us. It made sense to give him a hand.” He wasn’t even talking to Kurt now, just telling the story as though to himself, still smiling that soft smile. “He kept looking at me as we walked through the steps, and telling me how great the guitar sounded, and he kind of… went on a tangent about me, and all the things he admired about me? Some of them were a little personal. And, okay, he’d popped this huge boner, I guess that was sort of telling too.”

“That was a long time ago.” _Back when Noah was tossing me into dumpsters,_ Kurt wanted to add, but he wasn’t sure if Michael had been aware of that or not. “Why didn’t you say something to him then?”

“Rachel Berry.” His lip twisted. “We’ve had the same dance teacher and the same vocal coach since we were in elementary school. Seriously, I think the main reason I decided to focus on instrumental music was because I was so sick of dealing with her.”

“I suppose I can relate to that.” Not for the first time, Kurt wondered how his life would have been different if his family had had the money and energy to put into training him to sing and dance, the way Rachel’s fathers had.

“Yeah, I know you can. And when she figured it out, she —“

“Mike.” It was the same boy from before, looking impatiently at them through the door to the jazz band’s dressing room. Kurt thought his name might be Jason. He felt more than a little embarrassed that he didn’t even know the Glee club drummer’s name. “C’mon, we gotta go.”

“We’ll continue this conversation later,” Kurt said smoothly, smiling as though it was no big deal. “Good luck.”

“You, too.” Michael watched him walk away. He was wearing a carefully blank expression, one that Kurt recognized. It was the same one Noah always wore when he looked at Kurt at school.

On stage, when the judge announced that the Warblers and the New Directions had tied, and they would both be going on to regionals, Kurt saw the expression again, this time on Finn’s face when Rachel hugged him.

 _I can’t believe how much effort people put into staying in the closet,_ Kurt thought. _God. It’s exhausting._

After climbing onto the bus to return to Dalton, Kurt found a seat next to Blaine. “I think we need to celebrate.”

Blaine looked delighted. “I’m in. What do you want to do?”

“I want to dance,” Kurt announced. “With a bunch of proud, gay boys.”

Blaine laughed. “I think I can probably arrange an opportunity to do something like that. Okay if I’m one of them?”

“I was hoping you might be,” said Kurt, smiling back.

Kurt could probably have looked up Michael’s number and called him to get the rest of the story out of him, but he thought he understood enough now to let the remaining details go. It wasn’t until he arrived home for Christmas break that he decided Michael wasn’t the one he needed to talk to.

“Rachel,” he said over the phone. “How about the two of us spend a couple hours listening to your extensive CD collection and trading makeup tips?”

“ _That depends,”_ she said, but he could hear her smiling. _“Are you going to dress me up like a sad clown hooker again?”_

“I won’t do anything like that,” he promised. “I’ll be right over.”

She hugged him when he arrived, and it felt so good, he hugged her back for a long time.

“I miss you. We all do.” She pulled back a little to look meaningfully at him. “One person in particular?”

“I’m sure he does.” Kurt raised his chin. “But I’m done wasting my time on closet cases.” Then he paused in dismay as her face fell. “Oh — Rachel. That was tactless of me.”

“No, it’s all right. It’s just been… a hard week.”

“Tell me all about it?”

He followed her into the kitchen for some iced tea, then up the stairs to her bedroom while she filled him in on the details of her failed attempt to arrange a song for Finn on the stage with the jazz ensemble. “I should have known it wasn’t going to work when he told me he didn’t like fake Christmas trees.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Rachel, you tried to sing a song with the WMJE? Was _Michael_ there?”

“No, he wasn’t, but… maybe it was enough of a trigger just to have the rest of the ensemble there on the stage.” She shrugged wistfully. “At least the AV club did a really good job with the snow.”

“I think Christmas songs are never a good idea,” he said. They settled onto her four-poster bed as Rachel spread an array of CDs out for perusal. “I mean, Blaine asked me to rehearse “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” with him, and it left a really bad taste in my mouth. Yes, it’s a classic, but how super creepy can you get? All I could think about was the poor girl and how she kept saying _no,_ and the guy just wouldn’t take a hint.” He shuddered.

“I guess I’m kind of doing that to Finn,” she said softly.

“Maybe? I don’t even know anymore, Rach. I’m not going to judge any of you for what you’re doing or not doing.”

“Well, I think I’m going to give him some space over the holiday. I’m not going to call him.” She sounded very determined, and when he patted her hand, she sighed. “You might need to take away my phone to make that happen.”

“Since when is Rachel Berry lacking in self-control?”

She gazed at her lap. “Since Finn made it clear there was competition for him? That I was competing with the same boy who’s been my number one rival for the spotlight since I was in preschool?”

He picked up a CD case and bent it back and forth, listening with reluctant fascination. “That was all before my time. I got Michael to tell me some of it. When did you find out Finn was interested in him in that way?”

Rachel hugged her stuffed mouse, leaning back against a pile of pillows that rivaled the one on he had his own bed. “You know when you’re getting to know someone for the first time, and everything about them is interesting? All you want to do is ask them every tiny little question about them, and tell them all the things about you that nobody ever cared about before. That’s what Finn and I did at the beginning of sophomore year, long before we started kissing. We told each other all our secrets. That was one of the ones Finn told me: that he had a crush on Michael Lewis.” She grimaced. “Michael and I never got along very well. I thought after I stopped doing summer theater with Mrs. Wright, I would only have to put up with him at dance recitals.”

“But he joined Glee, kind of,” Kurt pointed out.

“He kind of did. It’s worse when Jason isn’t there and Finn plays the drums, because he’s more on Michael’s team then.” She sighed. “I’m just grateful Michael never tried competing with Finn for vocal solos. He’s extremely talented.”

Kurt leaned forward. “So… you talked to him about Finn?”

She squirmed uncomfortably. “I suppose I might have made a kind of — of ultimatum.”

“And you didn’t think of that as a form of outing?”

“It wasn’t — I didn’t say anything about Finn’s feelings for him,” she said, sounding defensive. “I just told him, in no uncertain terms, that Finn was spoken for, and Michael wasn’t to get in my way. It could have been interpreted in any number of ways.”

“No, Rach,” he said, “I think that was pretty clear. When was this?”

“Well, the first time I confronted him was before sectionals sophomore year. But then during Rocky Horror this year, there was that incident in the hallway. The one where Finn almost got suspended for—“

“—walking down the hall in his Brad costume,” Kurt said, nodding. “I remember. Oh…” He paused. “You know, Finn _did_ mention something to me about being worried about what a particular person would think about his body if he appeared on stage in his underwear.”

“Yes, well.” She frowned. “That day, Michael took the opportunity to tell Finn how great he looked in his costume, and that he had nothing to worry about. _That’s_ why Finn walked down the hallway like that.”

Kurt gave her a look. “Didn’t you tell him the same thing?”

“That’s not the point,” she snapped. “It was inappropriate coming from — from someone other than his girlfriend.”

“Wow, that’s a lot more heterosexist than I expected from you, Rach.” He watched her cringe. “I’m finding myself more and more on Michael’s side every time we talk.”

“He doesn’t get to _have_ him, Kurt,” she said, sounding so furious it made him blink and sit back. “He just doesn’t. Finn deserves someone better than _Michael._ Michael won’t _care_ about him like I do. Finn needs someone who’s _devoted_ to him.”

“Do you mean you’re worried Michael’s going to break his heart?” Kurt asked gently. “Because I think he might have done that already.”

She started to cry. After a moment, Kurt sighed and offered a hug, which she accepted immediately.

“It’s not fair,” she sobbed, clinging to him. “Why doesn’t he feel about _me_ like that? I’m the one who — who’d give up _everything_ for him.”

“You’d settle for a boy who doesn’t want you, just so you could have the one you want?”

“He does want me.” She wiped her face. “Just… not in quite that way. That one thing, it’s not all that important.”

“No,” he said slowly. “No, Rachel… listen. It _is._ You’re right, it’s not the _only_ thing, but… you can’t decide what Finn needs. He has to figure that out.”

She nodded reluctantly. “And then what?”

“You wait for him to make his decision.”

“What if his decision keeps changing?” she protested.

“Well, then… you have to decide if it’s worth waiting for him to figure it out. Or you move on. But you can’t decide for him. Even if you think Michael’s the worst thing in the world for him. He might not pick Michael, but he _does_ get to pick.”

She sniffed. “I wish he would just make up his mind.”

Kurt smiled, nodding. “Love is complicated, even when you only have one gender to think about. When you add more of them… I can only imagine.”

She groaned. “Boys are so _stupid._ ”

“Hey!”

“Oh, Kurt. You know I don’t mean you. You’re an honorary girl.”

Kurt furrowed his brow. “Rachel, I’m a _boy._ As much as Finn and Noah and Michael are. And as stupid as we can be sometimes, I think refusing to acknowledge that boys can be like me is part of the problem.”

She actually looked ashamed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be judgmental.” She hugged him again. “I just meant you’re a very nice boy.”

“I’m not always,” he said, thinking about what Noah had said to him. _You’re a thousand times meaner._ “I think… maybe you need to talk to Michael.”

“ _I_ need to…?” Now she looked suspicious. “Why?”

“Because we’re all living with judgments we made a long time ago about who people are. Maybe it’s time to ask him what he wants, and to listen to the answer.”

She didn’t respond. They both sat quietly, humming along to the _Evita_ soundtrack playing in the background.

“The Warblers didn’t like ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina,’” Kurt told her with a smile. “But it was a good suggestion anyway.”

“Yes, well, just because nobody likes your idea doesn’t mean you’re not right.” She smiled back. “Are you going to talk to Noah?”

“Are you going to talk to Michael?” he countered.

“I’m not sure it’s the same thing.” But after a moment, she nodded. “I’ll try. And I’ll try to listen, and keep an open mind.”

_ _

[ _https://youtu.be/3Gwahh04Y1Y_ ](https://youtu.be/3Gwahh04Y1Y)

_You say you'll give me a highway with no-one on it_   
_Treasure, just to look upon it  
All the riches in the night_

_You say you'll give me eyes in the moon of blindness_   
_A river in a time of dryness  
A harbour in the tempest_

_All the promises we made, from the cradle to the grave  
When all I need is you _

_\- U2, “All I Need Is You”_


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Kurt brought his paperback copy of _Shadow of the Giant_ with him to Noah’s house. He didn’t call before going over there, but he gave himself a stern lecture first: _You are not going to be angry if you find him in bed with somebody else, no matter what gender they are._

But Noah appeared to be the only one at home when he arrived, or at least his truck was the only vehicle in the driveway. He waited on the porch and pressed the buzzer several times before the door opened.

Noah stared at him for a long time. He was wearing the shirt Kurt had bought for him for his birthday two summers ago.

“I have no ulterior motive here,” said Kurt, holding up his hands. “But I thought you might be bored, and… I had this book.”

“You don’t think you could have done that over the phone?”

“Okay, maybe I had a little bit of an ulterior motive.” He sighed. “I wanted to say I was sorry. For judging you, and being… so awful, after my dad’s wedding.”

“Okay?”

“And I think you deserve a chance to tell me what you want, without me being a judgmental asshole.”

Noah still looked entirely nonplussed. “Were you planning on having me do this in my doorway?”

“Do you want me to come in?”

“Not really.”

Kurt shifted awkwardly on the crumbling porch. “Well, you could come out, then?”

“You’re not going to read to me in the fucking Lima Bean.” Noah’s tone was flat.

“Come over to my house, then!” he burst out. Noah raised both eyebrows.

“What is this? Charity? Part of your twelve-step work?”

“I’m apologizing,” Kurt continued doggedly. “You’re supposed to accept.”

“And then what?”

“And then we try again from the beginning.”

Noah looked at him for another long, uncomfortable minute. Then he stepped out onto the porch beside Kurt and closed the door behind him.

“Is that a yes?” Kurt asked.

“It’s a _fuck it,”_ Noah replied. “Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.” His expression was surly. “But I’m taking my truck. I’m not gonna be stuck at your house if things get bad.”

Kurt looked up the quote, which turned out to be from _Measure For Measure,_ and read the rest of the scene in the Navigator before following Noah back to his house. By the time he arrived, Noah was sitting at the dining room table, chatting with Carole and Finn as though nothing had changed.

 _He’s not my boyfriend anymore,_ he wanted to tell Carole, but he didn’t exactly know how to make that plain, or even what it meant in the context of their complicated relationship. Watching him speak with Finn, Kurt wasn’t even certain if Noah’s relaxed demeanor was actually how he was feeling, or just a very good act.

Finn looked nothing but pleased to see Noah. There was no question the grin on his face was genuine. Kurt had always thought Finn’s authenticity was one of the best things about him.

 _And apparently Michael agrees with me,_ he mused. He wondered if Finn and Michael had continued their late-night conversations after sectionals — or if they’d progressed to something more.

Noah didn’t reach for his hand or touch him in any way, and although he included Kurt in their conversation, he didn’t ask him about Dalton or bring up anything he’d done over the past month and a half, other than their accomplishments in Glee. But when Carole asked, “Oh, did you get the part in that play?” and both he and Kurt said, “Yes,” at the same time, they paused and looked at one another in surprise.

She laughed. “I was speaking to Noah, but Kurt, you can go first.”

“What part?” Kurt asked politely. “I should ask, what show?”

“It’s part of Jenna’s masters’ project. She has to direct a play, and she picked Mamet. _Speed-the-Plow.”_ Noah shrugged, rolling a tennis ball from hand to hand. “Charlie Fox. There’s only three people in the whole play, so it’s a lot to dig into, but I’ve got Youtube videos to help me learn the lines.” He tossed the tennis ball to Kurt, who nearly fumbled it in his surprise. “You?”

“I joined the Shakespeare club,” he said. “We’re doing _Timon of Athens._ It’s just a little part.”

Noah smirked at him. “Of course you are. What else, at an all-boys’ school?”

“I thought you said it was _Twelve Angry Men,”_ said Finn. “Like that movie we watched.”

Noah’s smirk slid off his face, leaving him unsettled and a little hurt. “You’re doing _Twelve Angry Men?”_

“That audition’s scheduled for January.” Kurt tried to keep his own expression neutral. There was no reason Noah shouldn’t know what show he was doing, even if it was one of his favorites.

“Well.” Noah stood up. “Break a leg.” He gathered up a stack of the breakfast dishes still sitting on the table and carried them into the kitchen.

“It’s good to see Noah,” said Carole. She looked pointedly at Kurt, but he couldn’t pay attention to what she was saying. It felt like all his attention had gone into the kitchen with Noah. All he could do was nod. She followed his gaze. “Why don’t you go help him with those dishes?”

He flushed, but before he could say anything, Finn cleared his throat. “Mom, they’re not together right now.”

“I see.”

“He — I was just going to read to him,” Kurt said, but the words came out strained. He could see the sympathy on Carole’s face, and it made him a little angry.

“Would you rather be with us out here, or do you want some privacy to talk?” She already had her purse in her hand. “Finn and I can go do some Christmas shopping and come back in a couple hours.”

Kurt wasn’t sure how to answer, but then he saw Finn nodding his head, looking a little anxious, and Kurt opened his mouth and said, “Sure, yes. Thanks.”

“I’m gonna talk to her,” Finn whispered into his ear as he grabbed his coat. “About Michael.”

Kurt clutched his hand for a moment. “Good luck.”

Finn didn’t look all that happy, but he was obviously determined to go through with it anyway. Kurt gathered up the rest of the breakfast dishes and went into the kitchen to join Noah.

He’d taken off his shirt, and although he was wearing a ripped tank top underneath, it didn’t cover much. The worn pair of jeans conformed perfectly to his behind as he scrubbed dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. He had a little suds on his left bicep. Kurt paused in the doorway, letting himself observe the sight as long as he could before Noah turned and noticed him.

“Is this what I’d see in your gay porno of choice?” Noah asked without turning around. “Half-naked guy doing the dishes?”

Kurt refused to blush. “I’m not going to ask what would be in yours.”

Noah gave him an amused snort. “You _know_ what’s in mine. I watch it, like, twice a week.”

“Never in front of me.” Kurt moved in next to him and set the dishes down in the sink.

“It’s right on the fucking desktop of my computer.” His tone was conversational, as though he was discussing what kind of soap he was using. “What, you never peeked?”

“Maybe.”

“Yeah. That’s what I did, that whole day I skipped school after the football team dissed my pitch for Glee. Me, that porn flick, a fat blunt, and that big dildo, for five and a half hours.”

He closed his eyes, which unfortunately did not take away the vivid image his mind’s eye was painting. “That is _not_ what I asked you over to—“

“Sorry.” Kurt jumped when Noah reached out and wrapped a wet hand around his wrist, holding on tight. “Whatever you think we are, Kurt, I’m never not going to be turned on by you.”

Kurt tried his best to control the wild beating of his pulse under Noah’s fingers, but he knew there was no way Noah couldn’t feel it.

“We’re alone in the house.”

Kurt nodded.

“You want me to go jack off in the bathroom, then?” Noah turned off the water and leaned up against the sink, grinding his hips against the edge of the counter. “Or should I just go home now?”

“What, are you looking for sympathy sex?” Kurt glared at him. “Like I’m supposed to feel bad for you for not getting it from — wherever you want?”

“I’m not getting it from _anybody else,”_ Noah snapped back. His face was dark with frustration and anger. “I don’t _want_ it from anybody else. But don’t tell me you’d be doing me a favor, Kurt. You want it as much as I do.”

“So what if I do?” He kept his eyes resolutely on Noah’s face. “You’re not going to talk me into anything I’m not ready to do.”

“You think I’m going to believe you’d rather fucking _read_ to me?” he demanded. “That’s such bullshit. You just want to see what a loser I am.”

“What a —“ Kurt ripped his hand out of Noah’s, staring at him in astonishment. “Noah, you’re not a loser.”

“You’re the one in control.” He picked up the dish towel and furiously wiped his wet hands, then threw it on the floor. “Okay? Are you happy now? I’m a fucking basket case.”

“Because I won’t have _sex_ with you?”

“Because you’re halfway across the fucking _state,”_ Noah shouted. “There’s nothing I can — you’re safe, and you’ve got everything you need.”

“You think I don’t need you anymore,” Kurt said slowly.

“Yeah, who wants to depend on a _Lima loser_ anyway,” he growled. When he tried to head for the door, Kurt blocked his way, and he groaned. “God, Kurt, just — let me go home.”

“Not yet.” Kurt waited while Noah retreated, scowling at anything in view as he paced the kitchen. “I didn’t bring you here for sex. Or to tell you what’s wrong with you. Yes, I want to read to you, but that was just an excuse.”

“You want to know what I _want,”_ said Noah, “but you don’t want me to do anything about it?”

“Not like that! I meant… longer term than that. What you want in the future.” The words were coming out all wrong. He sighed in frustration, but Noah had stopped and was watching him.

“You want to know what _I_ want,” he said again. The emphasis was different now. Kurt nodded, and bit his lip, feeling suddenly nervous.

“I promise I won’t laugh,” he said. “Or get upset.”

Noah leaned back against the counter, his eyes darting around the kitchen as he thought.

“Well,” he said at last. “I guess there’s two answers to that. One involves you, and one... doesn’t.”

Kurt nodded on a dry throat. “Why don’t you tell me both.”

“If… if it turns out it’s just me.” He glanced at Kurt, who nodded again. “I’m gonna take off as soon as I turn eighteen. Head to Chicago, probably, to start. Bryce — he’s the director at the summer program in New York — he’s got contacts at agencies in most cities once we’re done with school, but we’ve got to pay our own expenses. I’ll look for a job that doesn’t need a high school diploma.”

Kurt couldn’t help interrupting. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you stayed here until you graduated?”

He gave Kurt a withering look. “You really think I’m gonna graduate? Do you _know_ what my grades are?”

“But I could —“ he began, but Noah shook his head.

“This is without you, Kurt. Are you actually going to listen or what?”

He subsided, taking a seat at the small kitchen table while Noah went on, but he was already shaken. The whole idea of trying to survive in the world without a high school diploma seemed ludicrous.

“So I’ll audition and work. And then if things go to crap in Chicago, I’ll move to Dayton and help my dad with the opera house. He’s got a shitload of repair work to do there, and he can’t do most of it anymore. It’s not like they could pay both of us to do a job they can barely afford to pay him anyway. I guess he could look at getting disability and I could… take over for him.” Noah said the words with obvious distaste, like he was picking his way through a puddle of excrement. Kurt shook his head in despair.

“You don’t want to live with your dad. Or do what he did.”

“No, but — you really think the life of an actor is about what he _wants?_ I’ll be lucky if I can land a leading role before I’m twenty.” He shrugged. “I’ve got to be realistic about what happens if I don’t.”

Kurt resisted the urge to reach out and take his hand. “What if… how would it be different if we were together?”

Noah didn’t smile. “I’d wait it out until the end of senior year. You’d get into college somewhere, hopefully somewhere it’s not so fucking scary to be gay. I’d get a job there and work with an agent nearby. We could split rent and utilities.”

He looked so discouraged, Kurt had to ask, “Would that be so bad?”

Noah grimaced. “ _No._ It wouldn’t. You’d be doing your thing, and I could — make it easier.”

Kurt nodded. His heart was still thudding, making it hard to get the words out, but he managed to add offhandedly, “Would we be partners?”

“Partners. Yeah.” Noah nodded. Then his eyes widened, and he said, “You mean, like—?”

“Monogamy’s not for everyone, Noah,” Kurt said. He hoped it still sounded casual. “I wouldn’t expect it from most actors. And part of growing up involves taking time to explore.”

Noah had regained his guarded expression, but not before Kurt had seen what was underneath. He’d been absolutely floored. “Sure. You’d want to spend some time doing that.”

“Which doesn’t mean we couldn’t… take care of one another.”

There was a flash of something in Noah’s eyes. He nodded. “Moving to a new place, it could really suck if you didn’t have somebody you already knew. Somebody you could trust.”

 _Trust._ It could have been a tender subject, but Kurt breathed into it, and it didn’t seem scary. He did trust Noah.

“Here’s the thing, though.” He made sure Noah was looking at him before going on. “I’m not going to be closeted. Anyone I end up with, no matter what labels we use for ourselves, or how we name the relationship, I don’t want to have to worry about accidentally outing him.”

Noah nodded again. “That sounds… reasonable.” He scratched his neck, then shrugged. “Everybody’s fucking queer in the theater, anyway. Nobody would be surprised about me.”

 _Your grandmother might be,_ he could have said, but it would have turned the conversation depressing all over again. “Just so we’re clear about my expectations.”

“Sure.” Noah’s brow furrowed. He was watching Kurt curiously. “So… that sounds like something you might be okay with?”

“It’s a dream, Noah.” He didn’t wave it away, but it was probably better to name it for what it was. “It might be different from my own dream, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see it happening someday.”

“Someday,” he echoed. He crossed his arms. “And what about right now?”

“I’d rather live in reality than focus on dreams.” He tilted his head. “Hence the auditions. Somebody told me I wasn’t going to get noticed doing theater in Lima.”

Noah snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“So I’m trying to do what I can about that, without getting stuck in feeling like it might be too late.” He waited, then added, “You could do that.”

“It’s kind of a long drive to Dayton, but sure, I could. They’re doing _Fiddler_ again this spring. I think I’m still going to end up getting kid roles there for a long time, but…”

“I meant here,” Kurt interrupted. “At home.”

Noah frowned. “There’s not a whole lot I can do at home, Kurt. I told you what my Ma said about… you know, about me.”

“I’m not talking about theater, or your sex life. I’m talking about you, and Sarah.” He waited again, but Noah just looked confused. “Your _house,_ Noah. The clutter, the mess. You hate being there.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s always been like—“ Noah began, then cut himself off with a little shake of his head. “No. Just… no.”

“You can’t move out. So what can you do?”

Noah laughed, sounding bitter. “If you think there’s anything I can do about things the way they are, you’re out of your fucking mind.”

“Would she kick you out if you just started… cleaning?”

Noah stared at him. “She might. And —“ He shook his head again, more slowly this time. “Exactly where would things _go?”_

“I guess that’s up to your mother.” Kurt stood up and reached out his hand, and Noah took it in surprise, his gaze shifting to land on their intertwined fingers. “I’m not saying it would be easy, or even that things would get better. But nothing’s going to change if you don’t do _something._ Would you talk to Ms. Pillsbury? Maybe she would have some resources.”

“Resources,” said Noah, his lip curling. But then he sighed, his whole body seeming to relax into the touch of Kurt’s hand. “I guess I could do that.”

Kurt tried not to look surprised himself, but Noah apparently picked up on it, because he smiled sheepishly.

“You thought I was gonna yell at you for suggesting that? Storm out or something?”

“Something,” said Kurt. Then he made a wordless exclamation as Noah closed the distance between them in two steps and kissed him. It didn’t last long, but it eliminated his train of thought, until all he could do was reach out and touch Noah’s bare shoulder, feeling like it might disappear any moment.

“You’re right, though.” He leaned in and kissed Kurt again, letting their connection linger this time, and Kurt sighed into it. “You’re usually right. I should just listen to you all the time.”

“Now you’re just trying to butter me up.” He tried to sound stern, but his voice cracked as he spoke.

“So what’ll you give me if I talk to Ms. P?” Noah rested his head against Kurt’s. “Do I get to keep kissing you? Even if you’re, what… _taking time to explore?”_

 _It’s not an affair if neither of us are seeing anybody else,_ he thought, feeling giddy, and laughed as Noah kissed his neck. “God… um. Can I think about that?”

“Take all the time you need,” Noah murmured. He moved his lips to Kurt’s throat. “I’ll just be… doing this.”

“Okay. _Okay.”_ Kurt put both hands on Noah’s shoulders and gave him a firm push. Noah’s expression was far too innocent and attentive. “Look, nothing’s really changed. You’re not going to come out at school.”

“No.”

“But… everybody at this house knows about you.” He could hear himself rationalizing the situation, and hated himself a little for it. “I’ll be home for two weeks.”

Noah smiled expectantly. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to talk to your mother?”

“Uh…” His smile vanished. “I thought—“

“Let’s not pretend this is something it’s not,” Kurt said. “You’re manipulating me; I’m going to let you. But I might as well get something out of it. Talk to her about how the house is affecting you and Sarah.”

“How are _you_ getting something out of it by making me talk to my Ma?” Noah muttered, but it was clearly rhetorical. Kurt smiled at him, feeling a little more settled. He kissed Noah and felt him respond, but pulled away this time before the kiss could escalate.

“Are we done in here?” He glanced around the kitchen. “Because my room is empty for another hour and a half, and there’s a book waiting for us on the dining room table.”

“Actually…” Noah looked hopeful as Kurt led him downstairs. “If we’re gonna do something that _isn’t_ fucking, maybe you’d be willing to help me with my lines for _Speed-the-Plow_?”

Kurt felt his heart give an awkward thump. _Like we really were partners,_ he thought. _Like this really might work._

“I’d be happy to,” he said.

Nobody seemed surprised when Noah stayed for dinner, or when he and Kurt kissed before Noah headed out to his truck. His dad just took it in stride, and Carole gave them several indulgent smiles. Finn, however, followed Kurt down to their room.

“Are you guys together now or what?” he demanded.

“Are you and Michael?”

Finn stammered on a response, but finally came out with, “It’s not like that.”

“Well, I would say it isn’t exactly like that for me and Noah, either. I suppose I should ask, are you going to judge me for not making it more clear?”

“Kurt, I just don’t want to say the wrong thing in front of everybody in Glee. I don’t _care_ what you guys are doing together in bed.” He looked a little disgruntled. “Although it does smell an awful lot like sex in here now.”

“Yes, well… I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t actually planning on having any.” He sank down onto the bed. “I can throw my sheets into the washing machine if it bothers you.”

“It’s okay,” said Finn, shaking his head. “Don’t feel bad about having sex with someone, even if he’s not your boyfriend.”

“So… did you talk to Carole about him?” He stifled his smile at Finn’s mournful expression. “She didn’t seem upset tonight.”

“She wasn’t even _surprised,”_ he groaned. “I guess I didn’t do all that good a job of hiding it from her. She just wanted to make sure I was being safe, which… _seriously_ , not an issue.  And that I was being honest with Rachel.”

“What _is_ going on between you and Rachel?”

“Nothing. Not since she talked to _him.”_ He gritted his teeth. “I seriously can’t believe she thought it was okay to do that.”

Kurt cleared his throat. “Um.”

“Like, boundaries? He hasn’t called me even once since then. And before you ask, he and I haven’t done anything except talk since that night.”

“Well, that’s probably a good thing,” said Kurt desperately. “You’re going to hate me.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “For…?”

“I’m the one who told Rachel to talk to him.” He waved his hands frantically at Finn’s outraged expression. “She already knew everything about him! I didn’t tell her anything new.”

“Why would you _do_ that?” Finn didn’t sound angry, just shocked.

“Because I realized I’d been judging Michael based on my own assumptions about what I thought he wanted,” he said. “I didn’t know he’d had feelings for you for all that time.”

Finn paused. “What do you mean?”

Kurt stared back at Finn, then put a hand over his face. “Oh, no. I can’t believe this.”

“What do you _mean?”_ Finn pressed. “When?”

“If he hasn’t told you yet, I don’t think he intended you to know.” Kurt squeezed his eyes shut. “Michael. He’s had a thing for you since your freshman year.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Finn said, laughing. “He didn’t even know who I was then.”

“Yes. He did.” He peered at Finn through his fingers. “Believe me, Finn, he’s just not that good an actor.”

“But he’s…” Finn’s voice faded away, and his face went red as he looked at Kurt. “He did? I mean… he does?”

Kurt sighed. “I asked him why he took a chance on talking with you to begin with, and he said, and I quote, ‘He’s _Finn Hudson.’_  Like that.”

“But he doesn’t,” Finn protested. “Now. He said he just wants to be friends. He _said.”_

“I think you might need to ask him what he _actually_ wants,” said Kurt. “That’s what Rachel was doing when she talked to him, and I notice you said he hasn’t called you since then?”

Finn raked his hands over his face and collapsed back onto his bed. “Oh, god, Kurt.”

“You can still be friends with him,” Kurt urged.

“No.” Finn’s face was obscured by his hands, but he sounded like he was crying. “I mean, yeah, that’s what we’re doing, but… this. This whole thing is… it’s just so _hard._ ”

“I’m sorry.”

Kurt sat where he was, unhappily tangling his fingers together, until Finn sat back up and blew his nose.

“I don’t hate you,” Finn told him. “I’m a little jealous, but whatever, that doesn’t have anything to do with you, or Puck, or Rachel or anybody.”

“For what it’s worth, I might not dislike Michael as much as I thought I did.”

Finn let out a little laugh. “Like I said, you don’t have to like him. Rachel doesn’t like him either.”

“I think that’s because they’re a lot alike,” said Kurt. “She never liked competition, and he’s turned into the worst kind: the kind that’s unbeatable. Because he’s a boy.”

“I don’t actually think I like dudes more than chicks, Kurt. I still like Rachel. And I still look at girls all the time. But…” He shrugged, sighing, and Kurt nodded.

“You told me. He’s _different._ I can understand that.”

But Kurt found himself wondering about that as he got ready for bed. Noah had told him _I don’t want anybody else._ As far as Kurt knew, that wasn’t how he used to feel, but he had no idea what had changed.

Noah didn’t pick up when Kurt called him before bed, so Kurt sent him an uneasy text message: _Can you at least reassure me I didn’t do anything wrong this afternoon?_

 _No,_ Noah wrote back immediately. _It’s OK. Talking to Ma._

That made it a little easier to go to bed without touching base, although Kurt woke up several times to check his phone. It wasn’t until after one that Noah finally sent him another message.

 _Well,_ he said, _that sucked._

_Do you need a place to be that isn’t there?_

_No, it’s okay. We all just went to bed._

_You can call if you need to talk._

Noah didn’t respond, so Kurt put on his robe and went upstairs to wait on the couch with his phone. Sure enough, it rang a few minutes later.

 _“Is it weird being home after being at Dalton?”_ Noah’s voice was thick with emotion. It made Kurt’s chest ache to hear it.

“It’s not so weird,” he said. “It’s nice to have a break from the pressure to perform. I’m so behind in all my classes there, it’s not even funny.”

_“Welcome to my world.”_

Kurt had plenty of things to say about that, but he wasn’t going to get into a conversation about academics with Noah at the moment. “I’m sorry things were bad tonight.”

He sighed. “ _I guess you could say we made some progress. I did what you said and told her about how all the stuff in the house was getting to me, and Sarah. She cried through most of it, but maybe that’s better than yelling? I don’t know. Anyway, she apologized, so that’s something. And she said I could move things from the kitchen and the hallway into the back bedroom until she can sort through them.”_

Kurt felt a burst of pride. “That’s _really_ good progress, Noah. And I bet it would make a huge difference. I could come over and help this week, if you wanted me to.”

_“It doesn’t sound like the most fun way to spend your winter break.”_

“You don’t have to let me, but I’m available. And willing.”

_“I don’t really get why you’re helping me, but… thanks.”_

He sounded so perplexed when he said it, but Kurt felt the same resonating thump in his chest as he had before. He tried to ignore it.

“I bet Finn would help, too. If that wouldn’t be too hard, having him over.”

 _“No,”_ Noah said slowly. _“He’s been here lots of times before.”_

“Finn’s not so good at the talking, but I get the sense he could use somebody to talk to about Michael. About boys in general, really.”

 _“You want me to talk to Finn about fucking guys?”_ Noah was clearly horrified. Kurt stretched out on the couch, smiling.

“Not about that. About what it’s like to have these feelings. He doesn’t have anybody else to talk to, and I’m not around.”

Kurt heard him take a long, deep breath. _“Is this, like, more punishment? Part of the condition for, you know, getting to mess around with you?”_

“Sure. Absolutely, yes. Talk to Finn about being miserable and closeted or I won’t help you get off anymore.”

_“… Really?”_

He snorted. “Noah, just _be his friend,_ all right? I’m not about to regulate your conversations.”

 _“Well, I don’t know anymore, okay?”_ Noah protested. “ _It’s getting hard to tell when you’re pulling my chain and when you’re being serious.”_

Kurt couldn’t help let a little satisfaction creep into his voice. “You don’t like the idea that I’m as much of a hypocrite as you are, do you? You always thought I was the one who was better than that. How’s it feel to find out I’m not?”

It took Noah a moment to respond. _“I guess I don’t think that’s true, Kurt. I’m the one who gave in and let you settle for me.”_

“Hey, don’t flatter yourself. You can’t _make_ me do anything.”

_“No, but if you haven’t noticed, it’s been a while since either of us said anything about this being about love.”_

Kurt wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I loved running your lines with you today,” he said at last.

 _“I loved that, too,”_ Noah said softly. _“And the other stuff we did was pretty awesome.”_

“It always has been.” It might have been the late hour, but it was getting increasingly hard to keep his tone light. “How about you call me tomorrow morning after your mom leaves for work, and we’ll come over?”

 _“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks again.”_ He paused. _“I really do love you, you know?”_

Kurt curled himself into a ball on the couch, fighting against the hurt. “I know. Good night, Noah.”

_“‘Night.”_

He sat there for several minutes, crying into his pajama sleeve and feeling pissed at himself, until there was a noise from the stairs. When he sat up, his dad was there in his robe, resting a hand on the hallway light switch.

“You going to bed soon?” he said. “It’s pretty late.”

“I was just saying goodnight to Noah.”

His dad nodded, watching him as he sat up and wiped his face. “It’s been strange not having either of you around the house this past month. I thought the two of you made up, but now it looks like not so much?”

“Kind of,” he said. The last person he wanted to admit to about compromising his relationship with Noah was his dad, but not saying anything was almost worse. “Nothing’s really changed about him being honest with the world. I’m… having trouble deciding what’s okay with me and what’s not.”

“Sounds like you and Finn are dealing with some of the same stuff.” He sighed. “Carole’s been telling me about the conversation she had with Finn. I guess you already knew all of it? About the… the guy, the guitar player from the wedding?”

“I think I do, now. I keep learning more. I don’t think even Finn knows all of it yet.” He went over and stood beside his dad, feeling more responsible than ever for that worried expression on his face. “Finn’s really hurting, but I think it’s mostly because he’s having such strong feelings about Michael. It wouldn’t feel so bad if he didn’t feel it so deeply.”

His dad nodded soberly. “I’m guessing you can understand that, too. About feeling it deeply like that.”

“I’m trying to focus on school right now,” he said firmly. “I don’t need dreams to distract me from what I actually have.”

His dad gave him an odd look. “Since when have you ever not thought about your dreams?”

 _Since they started to hurt more than reality,_ he thought, but he just smiled bravely. “I’m growing up, dad. Or haven’t you noticed?”

That made his dad look a little misty-eyed. He hugged Kurt while standing on the bottom step. It made him just a little bit taller than Kurt now, but it was enough to evoke the feeling of being small in his dad’s arms.

“Get to bed,” he said gruffly. “It sure is good to have you home.”

Finn readily agreed to help Kurt and Noah clean the kitchen, which told Kurt something about his state of mind.

“You sure you don’t want to call Michael?” he asked him over breakfast, but Finn shook his head.

“I don’t even know what I would say. _So I hear my girlfriend called you, what’d you guys talk about?”_ He grimaced. “That’s worse than _I hear you’ve had a thing for me for years._ No thanks. I’m gonna wait.”

They filled the back of the Navigator with empty boxes, bags and cleaning supplies. When Noah texted him, _Okay, she’s gone,_ they headed over, stopping for coffee at the gas station around the corner on the way. Finn, who hated coffee, got a hot chocolate for himself.

“You think Sarah would want one too?” he asked Kurt.

“Why are you asking me?” asked Kurt. “You’ve known her since she was a kid.”

“Yeah, but she’s eight now. That’s not so much of a kid.” He ducked his head closer to Kurt, eyeing the guy at the counter. “Does she know you guys are — you know?”

“She knows.” It was only a little painful to consider the state of their _you-know_ in the light of day. “Noah said she’s the one who stands up for me when her mother is less than supportive.”

“Oh.” Finn blinked. “Wow, that’s really cool of her.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kurt agreed.

He carried the two hot chocolates and two coffees in a tray in his lap while Kurt drove. When Kurt went to ring Noah’s doorbell, the door flew open to reveal Noah in yesterday’s tank and jeans, his face wild with energy.

“Your boss tells you to _take initiative,”_ he declared, “you best guess right — and you _do,_ then you get no credit. Day-in… smiling, smiling, just a cog.”

Kurt laughed at Finn’s startled expression. “Mr. Fox is talking about his own self,” he said, continuing the lines from the script of _Speed-the-Plow_.

“You _bet_ I am.” His smile spread as he took the tray of cups and held the door open for Kurt, who lugged in the boxes and cleaning supplies. “But my historical self, Bob, for I am a cog no more.”

Noah let Kurt direct the process of sorting the myriad items in the kitchen while he shifted stacks of books, magazines and paraphernalia from the hallway into the back bedroom. Sarah had called it the _music room._ When Kurt got his first look inside, he understood why.

“Noah,” he gasped, edging his way around boxes and piles of clothing to touch the dusty instrument cases, the amps and the keyboard on a stand. “Is this really all your mother’s?”

“She was the musician,” he said. “My dad’s an awesome performer, but he can just barely strum the chords while he’s singing. Ma’s the one who taught me how to play, guitar and piano.”

Kurt gently touched the weighted keys on the electric piano. “Not anymore.”

“Not since they got divorced.” He sounded very matter-of-fact. “Who’s got time for music when you’re working double shifts twice a week?”

He and Finn dragged an old broken shelf away from the wall in the kitchen, trying not to let it collapse before they got it into the hallway. Kurt sized up the filthy lathe-and-plaster behind it. It wasn’t at all clear the wall was going to stand up to much scrubbing. They were going to have to be gentle.

Sarah mostly stayed out of their way for the first hour, but after a while she ventured into the kitchen, watching Kurt and Finn move things around with clear uncertainty.

“Can I show you how to wash this linoleum?” Kurt asked her. “I managed to get the kitchen window open, so it’s safe to use the ammonia now.”

She wrinkled her nose at the smell from the bottle, but she watched closely as he modeled letting it pool on the grimy floor while filling a bucket with hot water, then scrubbing the floor with a nylon brush.

“I never did this before,” she said, pulling Kurt’s rubber gloves on. “But I want to do it right.”

“There’s all kinds of ways to do things for the first time, Sarah.”

“Like you and Noah,” she said. Finn didn’t say anything, but he looked a little uneasy as Kurt passed him the sponge.

“He dated people before me.”

“Not like you.” She looked up from the spot of floor she was scrubbing. “Hey, look! It’s totally better already.”

“That’s it. Now soak that up using a rag, and wash it out into the sink. Then use the vinegar solution — no, the one in the purple bottle — just spray some on, like that. And wash it away with the hot water.” He smiled at her excitement. “Work in small patches like that and it’ll be easier.”

“Was it weird for you?” Finn asked Sarah after a few more minutes of washing the wall. “Uh… when you realized Noah wanted to… date guys?”

“A little. But Chris was nice. And Kurt’s the best.” She gave Kurt a fierce smile, but Finn was frowning.

“Who’s Chris?”

“The guy Noah was seeing from theater camp,” said Kurt quietly. He shook his head when Finn opened his mouth to say more. “Later.” He turned back to Sarah. “I’m sorry your mom’s been so angry about me.”

“That’s not _your_ fault,” she said scornfully. “It doesn’t make any sense. You’re so much nicer than anybody else.”

Kurt saw Finn visibly swallow, but he kept his tone light. “Have you heard the word _homophobia?”_ He turned back to the wall as he spoke, reaching up high to wash the molding near the ceiling.

“It’s, like, saying bad things about gay people?”

“That’s part of it. But it can also be about how people feel about themselves in relation to gay people? When I found out Kurt’s dad and my mom were gonna get married, I got really angry at Kurt. It wasn’t Kurt’s fault, and he didn’t do anything wrong, but I was freaked out because Kurt’s gay and I was, like, confused.” He paused, and then added, “About me.”

“You’re gay too?” Sarah said, sounding surprised.

“Maybe? I mean, it’s not important. I’m just saying, your mom might have weird feelings about Noah being… gay, or about being with Kurt. Feelings aren’t always rational, especially about this stuff.”

Kurt nudged Finn aside to clean the wall under his arm. “It is important,” he murmured.

“Dude, this isn’t about me.” Finn’s face was bright red.

“So why didn’t _you_ and my brother ever go out on a date?” Sarah asked.

Finn looked down the hallway and let out an hysterical laugh. “Uh, because I think I would have punched him in the nose if he’d asked me.”

“Or he would have,” Kurt added. “Trust me, I remember what he was like sophomore year.”

“So you’re saying liking somebody isn’t stronger than homophobia?” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s pretty messed up.”

“Not that it’s not stronger. It just takes people time to figure out what’s important.” Kurt dipped the sponge into the soapy water in the bucket and wrung it out again, watching the water perceptibly darken. “In the meantime, it’s hard to tell who’s going to be okay with it and who isn’t. Some people choose to keep their orientation and relationships private. Other people don’t.”

She grinned, setting down the brush. “Like you.”

“Like me,” Kurt agreed. “But your brother does.” When Sarah looked up at Finn, Kurt added quickly, “And it’s always better to ask before you tell other people.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t,” she said. “People can be totally mean. Even my friends say stuff all the time. It sucks not to be able to tell them about Noah.”

“Tell them what about me?”

Kurt had seen sweaty almost-shirtless Noah enough times that it shouldn’t have been a big deal, but he couldn’t help turning away and blushing. But Sarah didn’t hesitate.

“When my friends say gay people are gross or weird.”

Noah frowned. “Hey, it’s _not_ cool to talk trash about gay dudes. I hope you’re not standing for that shit, no matter who says it. You just tell them you don’t want to hear it.”

She shrugged. “I can say I don’t like it, but they don’t pay attention. I think if they knew my brother was gay, they might.”

Finn looked quickly at Noah as Sarah said the words _my brother’s gay_ . He took a shuffling step away, as though Noah might explode into anger at any moment. _Finn remembers him like that, too,_ Kurt thought, and held his breath as Noah’s scowl deepened.

“Look,” said Noah. “You know how in _12 Angry Men,_ how Juror Three is such a jerk about the defendant?” Sarah nodded, and he went on. “He has prejudices. And he won’t let them go, even when everybody else around him is using logic and evidence to tell him he’s full of shit.”

“But that’s because Juror Three has a son, and he doesn’t get to see him, right?” said Finn. They all turned to look at him. “Kurt had us watch it last week.”

“That’s not okay, though,” Sarah argued. “You can’t say stuff just because you _feel_ that way, especially not in a trial. All the people are supposed to put their feelings aside when they decide a court case.”

“Yeah, but Juror Three doesn’t, right? They’ve all got hangups about the things that piss them off most.” Noah waved this away. “People do that all the time. They aren’t logical. Or, really, they think they are, but the logic is so mixed up with other shit, it’s hard to know what’s logical and what’s shit. You just got to call them on it when you notice it. Right and wrong’s got nothing to do with what your brother is.”

Sarah seemed willing to accept this argument, but Finn remained quiet until Sarah went into the bathroom to dump out the dirty water in her bucket.

“Are you?” he said to Noah, his voice hushed. Noah regarded him.

“Am I what?”

Finn gestured nervously at Kurt. Noah frowned.

“Am I _what?”_ he repeated, more loudly.

“Gay,” Finn whispered. Noah raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his tank top.

“You think I’m gonna beat you up for asking? What was it you said… punch me in the nose?”

He watched Finn duck his head, avoiding Noah’s gaze. “I didn’t know you heard that.”

“I hear most of the stuff people say about me. And about you.”

“Noah,” Kurt said, but Noah held up his hand to stop him.

“I like girls. You know I do. So how am I supposed to answer that question?”

“I don’t _know,”_ whined Finn. Noah’s mouth tightened.

“A real smart guy once told me liking a particular kind of sex doesn’t make you gay… that it’s about who you fall in love with.”

Noah didn’t look at Kurt, but Finn did. Kurt sighed, dropping his sponge into the bucket.

“Can we focus on the task at hand?” Kurt asked, trying not to let his voice shake.

“You told me how Kurt felt about you,” said Finn to Noah. “Back when we did Gaga. But you didn’t tell me how _you_ felt about _him._ ” He shook his head. “It… it matters, man.”

“What’s it matter to you?”

“Because it should go both ways,” Finn said. He sounded like he was having trouble keeping his voice quiet. “If you’re together, it has to be something for both of you. You’re both important to me, and I don’t want either one of you to get hurt.”

Sarah came back into the kitchen, lugging a fresh bucket of water, and both Noah and Finn stopped talking.

For the rest of the morning, they stuck to conversations about cleaning and sorting. Eventually Noah took out his phone and looked at Kurt.

“You gonna complain if I order pizza?”

“Not today. Today, I think, pizza sounds exactly right. How about I go pick it up?” Kurt nudged Noah’s shoulder. “The two of you should finish your conversation.”

Neither of them looked thrilled about that idea, but Finn nodded and handed him a ten from his pocket.

On the way over to Bellacino’s, Kurt played Madonna’s _Immaculate Collection_ loud enough to drown out the conversation his brain was making up. He didn’t really expect either of them to punch the other in the nose, but at the very least he hoped Sarah’s presence might force them to keep it civil.

He didn’t bother to knock or ring the doorbell when he returned. There was an actual clear countertop available for him to stack the pizzas when he got back — the first time that had been true since he’d met Noah. He moved close enough to Noah’s bedroom doorway to hear the words that were being spoken.

“You really think it would have been a _good_ idea for me to tell _anybody_ about this shit back when I was figuring it out?” Noah was asking. “Would we have ever gotten on the football team? Would you ever have gotten to date the head cheerleader? _No._ It would have fucking _sucked._ ”

“Yeah.” Finn sounded surly. “Sounds like you had it all planned out. I just think it would have been better not to do it alone. Though I guess you weren’t, huh. You had Chris. And Dylan.”

“Trust me _, that_ was even more confusing than doing it alone.”

Kurt felt an uneasy sensation at hearing the unfamiliar name _Dylan,_ but decided listening in on their conversation any further was going to get him into more trouble than it was worth. He knocked on the door. “Pizza’s here.”

Noah met him in the doorway. He’d put a t-shirt on, and he wasn’t smiling, but there didn’t seem to be any imminent conflict.

“Everything going okay?” Kurt asked.

Noah crossed his arms, but he nodded. “Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.”

“ _Julius Caesar?”_ Kurt guessed.

“ _Hamlet,_ ” said Noah, clearly outraged. “Tell me you’re kidding, or I’m gonna make you watch the first two acts of the David Tennant movie version over lunch.”

“It has Patrick Stewart in it,” Sarah said, appearing in the doorway bearing a plate of pizza.

Finn didn’t argue when Noah played DVD while they ate, but he had a lot of questions about the plot that made it hard for Kurt to focus on understanding the words. Thankfully, Sarah answered most of the questions, so Kurt was free to watch Noah’s face, the way his eyes flicked from character to character, and his lips as he mouthed the words along with the actors. It wasn’t a surprise to see him do that anymore, but it didn’t take long before Finn caught on.

“Dude,” he said, perplexed, “you know _all_ the lines? You didn’t do this show.”

“Shh,” he said, holding up a hand. When Laertes was done with his soliloquy, he put it down and frowned at Finn. “Of course I know them. It’s _Hamlet.”_

Finn looked helplessly at Kurt, who didn’t bother to mask his smile. “He knows all the lines to everything, Finn.”

“Not _everything,”_ said Noah.

Sarah threw a pizza crust at him. He didn’t bother to dodge it, already enthralled by Polonius’s speech. “Pretty much everything,” she said. “He’s still working on learning the performances they only show on the BBC; we just got that channel this year.”

“Are you doing that Shakespeare camp again this summer?” Finn asked.

“Probably.” Noah looked at Kurt. “What about you?”

“I can’t,” said Kurt. “It’s too expensive. Not when my dad and Carole are paying for tuition at Dalton.”

“You think _I_ can afford to pay to go? You need to apply for a scholarship. The deadline’s in February.”

Finn was nodding. “Yeah, you could do that. Do you need to audition?”

“You can send in a recording, but in person is better. Sometimes Bryce comes to the midwest.” Noah made a sour face, but added, “My dad might know when he’s around.”

“Kurt, you gotta do this!” Finn exclaimed. “Aren’t you the one who was telling me you need to do more shows before you graduate? That you need to get noticed? Wouldn’t this help?”

“I don’t —“ Kurt swallowed, then looked at the three of them, watching him. “I mean, I saw the caliber of performances at Usdan. I don’t know if I’m good enough.”

Finn tapped Noah on the knee. “Is he?”

“Yeah,” said Noah. “Sure he is.”

Finn smiled broadly at Kurt, like that was all the evidence he needed. “See?”

They didn’t do any more work after lunch. Kurt set the cleaning supplies in the music room after Noah and Sarah both assured him they wouldn’t be in the way there. “Trust me,” said Noah, “Ma never goes in there anymore. Or most of the house. She probably won’t even notice what we did in the kitchen.”

“No way,” Sarah said, inhaling. “It’s all lemony and stuff. And the floor looks awesome. Well, that part of it does.”

“What you did made a difference,” said Kurt.

He staggered back when Sarah tackle-hugged him. “Thanks to you,” she said.

Noah chuckled, then leaned in and dropped a quick kiss on Kurt’s forehead. “Our fucking hero.”

They didn’t help at Noah’s every day. Kurt’s daytime vacation hours were in high demand with Mercedes and Tina, but he didn’t talk with them about the status of his relationship with Noah. He’d given up giving them details after their initial reaction; they’d made it abundantly clear they were in favor of Kurt dating Blaine instead.

Finn spent most of his time alone at the house, but sometimes Quinn would come over and capture him in her little red car and they would disappear for a few hours.

“You and Quinn aren’t…?” Kurt asked him one evening. Finn stared at him, then laughed, shaking his head.

“ _You’re_ asking me that? Huh. Maybe we don’t even need to start a rumor if people are just going to jump to conclusions.”

“Do you _want_ people to wonder if you and Quinn are messing around?”

“Kurt.” Finn raised both eyebrows at him. “Seriously? I just don’t want anybody to wonder if I’m messing around with _somebody else._ People can think whatever they want about me and Quinn.”

Kurt only saw Michael once over break, while walking through the parking lot at the grocery store with Carole. Kurt gave him a cool nod, but Carole obviously couldn’t contain her curiosity.

“That’s the boy, right?” she whispered after Michael had passed. “The one Finn has a crush on?”

“Don’t look don’t look don’t look,” Kurt pleaded, grabbing her arm and making her keep walking. “And Finn’s not twelve, Carole. I doubt he would call it a _crush_ anymore.”

Noah came over some days, for dinner or just to hang out, and occasionally Sarah joined them. Kurt wasn’t sure if they told their mom the truth about where they were or if they were “bunburying,” but he decided it wasn’t his place to ask.

Kurt didn’t get a lot of reading done with Noah over break, but they did watch movie versions of several of Noah’s favorite plays, after which Noah walked him through each play’s key monologues and dramatic dialogues. It wasn’t until Noah brought over a DVD of _Long Day’s Journey Into Night_ from the library that Kurt felt like he understood what Noah was trying to accomplish by doing this.

“I’d do better with a script,” Kurt said, after Noah grew impatient with him fumbling the lines from Edmund’s monologue about life on the sea.

“You don’t need a script,” Noah insisted. “Just _listen.”_

He backed the DVD up thirty seconds to the beginning of the scene. When Noah closed his eyes, Kurt did the same, trying his best to memorize every bit of Edmund’s speech. Noah took the DVD back to the same spot four times. The last time, Kurt began to mouth the lines along with the actor. When he got to the end, he opened his eyes to find Noah watching him with a hungry expression.

“That’s it,” Noah said. He paused the DVD, then gave the prompt, “When I was on the Squarehead square rigger, bound for Buenos Aires…”

Kurt could hear the scene in his head, the way the actor had done it, but he hesitated. “Aren’t I just… you know, copying him?”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “You’re not trying to do it like Dean fucking Stockwell. He’d been doing movies for eighteen years before he did this part. You’re trying to do it like _you._ Listen to _yourself._ Do it like yourself until you’re on the stage and you’ve got a director who’s telling you what to do, or until you’ve got your own coach.” He made an impatient gesture. “Trust me, you’ve got this. It won’t come out like copying.”

Kurt still felt like he was parroting, but when he reached the end, Noah was smiling.

“That was pretty good.”

He sighed. “But not good enough for Usdan?”

“I’m not gonna lie. But you practice that, it’ll get better. That one’s a good scene for you, actually. You need two dramatic monologues and a comedic one for your audition. Work up one of the scenes we did in _Merchant of Venice,_ and that one you did at drama club from _Brighton Beach Memoirs,_ and you’ll be fine.”

On the last day of their vacation, they sat on the couch in the basement while Noah coached him through the scenes he was doing with the Dalton Shakespeare club in _Timon of Athens_. Noah had absolutely zero patience for overacting, and Kurt realized again and again how easy it was easy to fall into that when reading Shakespeare’s flowery language. When Noah did it, he somehow managed to make it sound like ordinary speech. Eventually Kurt was able to say his lines in such a way that Noah was satisfied.

“You’re gonna call me before you do the audition for _Twelve Angry Men,”_ he told Kurt. “Once you get the scenes, we’ll run them together over the phone. I’ll give you some basic staging. If you can, tell them you’re trying for Eight or Four. You’d be a good Four.”

Kurt let his head fall back onto the couch, exhaling. “I would never have expected to feel so positive about spending my Christmas break scrubbing walls and being ordered around by my —“ He paused, eyeing Noah.

Noah was grinning. “Your what?”

“Well, I was going to say _my ex,_ but that’s not really all that accurate, is it?”

“Not really,” Noah agreed. “You could stick with _friend_. You made it pretty clear we’re not gonna keep the other stuff up.”

“No.” Kurt reached across to Noah, taking his hand with a half-smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This, all the cleaning, hanging out at your place… yeah, and the other stuff too, that’s all been great.” He squeezed Kurt’s hand.

“It’s gone too quickly.”

“Oh, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly / To seal love’s bonds new made than they are wont / To keep obligèd faith unforfeited,” Noah said. He said the line from _Merchant of Venice_ exactly the way Xavier had done Salarino’s part in Brit Lit, right down to the pitch of his voice, and Kurt laughed out loud.

“Yeah. Like that.”

Noah’s voice returned to normal. “It’ll be okay, though. You go back to Dalton, do theater, make your mark. I’ll… I don’t know, try not to get kicked out of school.” He smiled when Kurt giggled. “And then… I guess we’ll see?”

“I guess.” It didn’t exactly feel like a satisfactory ending to the vacation, but he wasn’t sure what else to say. “I can call and read to you from Dalton.”

He shrugged. “If you don’t think your roommate would get the wrong idea about us.”

“I don’t really care what my roommate thinks about us,” Kurt said. Noah’s smile relaxed into surprise.

“Sometimes,” he said quietly, “I forget how much easier things are when I’m around you.”

Kurt wasn’t sure if he could continue both holding Noah’s hand and looking into his eyes at the same time without completely losing his cool, so he dropped his gaze to the floor and interlaced Noah’s fingers more tightly with his own.

“You still wear that shirt I bought you for your birthday,” said Kurt. “I saw it on you the first day of break.”

“Yeah. It’s comfortable.”

“That made me happy.”

“Me too,” Noah admitted. “I mean, I guess it could be a turn-on, wearing your clothes, but… I just like knowing it’s from you.”

He nudged Noah with his foot. “You did that deliberately. About it being a turn-on to wear my clothes. How can I not be thinking about that now?”

“Sex shark, right?”

Noah gave Kurt’s hand a tug, hauling him across the couch a bit at a time, until Kurt was resting in his lap. The evidence of Noah’s arousal was startlingly obvious, but Noah didn’t seem to feel any urgency about it. Kurt curled up on his chest, inhaling his familiar smell, the oddly compelling blend of cheap aftershave and Noah’s own scent.

“So I’ve got a question. Why is okay for your roommate to think whatever he wants about us if it’s not okay for anybody else?”

“It’s not that I care what other people think…”

Noah snorted. “Give me a break, Kurt. Of course you do.”

“Hey, you asked, right? I get to answer.” He glared up at Noah. “And if you already knew the answer, why’d you ask?”

“I wanted to hear what you were going to say, but that started out bad enough that I think I changed my mind.”

Kurt wondered if he should be offended by this statement, but being in Noah’s arms felt too good. “You can draw your own conclusions, then.”

Noah’s arms came up to encircle him, and they both sighed, settling into the warmth of their contact.

“I have a question for you, too,” Kurt murmured, “but this might not be the time to get serious.”

“Better now then when you’re a fucking hour and a half away.”

“You could come visit me, you know.”

“Me and my piece of shit truck? Sure, that’d go over well at your rich boy school.” His words were biting, but Noah just sounded thoughtful. A few seconds later, he added, “I could probably do that. Go on, ask anyway.”

“When you were in juvie, those last few days. Something happened that really bothered you.”

He waited for Noah to tense up, but he just nodded against Kurt’s hair. “You were hoping for details?”

“Not… if it’s going to make it worse.”

Noah was silent, holding him a little tighter. Then he sighed.

“It’s just hard to tell you about the stupid shit I did, because I only know in retrospect exactly how stupid it was.”

“The stuff _you_ did?” Kurt lifted himself up on Noah’s chest to look into his face in surprise. “I thought…”

“What did you think?”

“Well, I assumed…” His words slowed, and he regarded Noah warily. “I thought somebody had assaulted you in there. Like the way Karofsky did with me, but worse.”

“Oh.” Now Noah was the one to look surprised. “Nothing like that, Kurt. You’ve been thinking that all this time and you didn’t make me tell you about it?”

“I wanted you to have privacy. You can still have that. I don’t need to know everything about you.”

Noah laughed, shaking his head. “You do already, Kurt. More than pretty much anybody else in the world.”

That fact expanded in his stomach, a bloom of pleasure. He smiled, stroking Noah’s chest, and heard him sigh. “All right. Well, yes. I do want to know about this, even if it’s not what I thought it was. What happened?”

Noah held him a little tighter while he spoke, which seemed to be comforting to both of them. “All right… you might remember I told you my dad found out about me liking guys because he walked in on me fooling around with an intern at the opera house.” He waited for Kurt’s nod before going on, sounding grim. “He was pretty fucking upset, although in retrospect that was probably because it was so illegal, not because it was a guy.”

“Illegal because of the age difference,” Kurt guessed. Noah nodded.

“Dylan was nineteen; I was fourteen. It wasn’t like he coerced me, but laws are there for a reason, right? Like, it could have been really bad for both of us, but _especially_ for Dylan. He’s a nice guy, I didn’t have anything bad to say about him or what we did, but... my dad had him fired anyway.”

Kurt pursed his lips. “Probably better that way.”

“I guess. Probably better if I hadn’t fooled around with a guy five years older than me, but hindsight and whatever. So I thought it was over, right?” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Flash forward to juvie. Turns out there was a guy in there who knew Dylan, and who knew me at the opera house, and who found out what we did.”

“Oh, no,” Kurt whispered. He swallowed. “Did… did he tell on you? On Dylan?”

“He said he was going to.”

“So… what did you do?”

Noah let his gaze slip to the coffee table. He shrugged. “I did what I had to do. What he told me to do. To keep him quiet.”

“Oh.” Kurt willed his face not to wrinkle up. The last thing he wanted Noah to think was that he was disgusted by what he guessed Noah had done. _Even if I am disgusted._

“So, yeah. Really stupid.” He gave Kurt a pained look. “I know I’m already seventeen and can’t make that mistake anymore, at least not in Ohio, but… I’m _seriously_ going not going to be that stupid again, ever. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“So that was two days before I was scheduled to leave juvie, and it made me feel… a lot of crappy things about myself, and about being gay in general.” He shrugged again. “That’s why I didn’t call you when I got out, and why I was such a jerk to you.”

“Because you felt bad about yourself? About what you did?”

“All of that. I mean, you seem to think I’m this good guy, Kurt. But I’ve gotta tell you, most days? I’m really not all that good.”

“I think I have a sense of who you are by now,” said Kurt. He reached up to place a kiss on Noah’s jaw while Noah watched him warily.

“And you wonder why I think you deserve better than me?”

“I think you sell yourself short intentionally because you’re scared you might try to be good enough for me, and still end up failing.”

Noah stared at him. “Okay,” he said slowly. “So tell me that doesn’t sound like a pretty crappy situation to find yourself in.”

“Maybe. But I’ve seen you do hard things before, Noah. Some of them were even courageous. You’ve been avoiding your mother for years about the creeping piles of stuff in your house, and two weeks ago you confronted her about it.”

Noah wrinkled his brow. “Yeah, but that was because of _you._ I’m not the courageous one; _you_ are.”

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other of us.”

He gave up trying to stare him down and rested his head on Noah’s shoulder. Noah’s arm tightened a little, and they stayed where they were for a while without moving.

“I think you’re more courageous than you think you are.”

“Shh,” said Noah. “Too much thinking. Lemme just have this.”

Kurt wondered for a moment what Noah meant, and if he might grab his butt and start kissing him at some point, but eventually he realized Noah meant just what they were doing. _Is this really enough?_ he wanted to ask, but it seemed more important not to interrupt.

[ https://youtu.be/_GjhMwSDgRc ](https://youtu.be/_GjhMwSDgRc)

_Somedays I am virtuous_   
_More days I am bad_   
_Some days I just can’t get enough  
of the sweetest thing I’ve ever had_

\- Great Big Sea, “Somedays”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits:
> 
> [Speed-The-Plow](https://youtu.be/SDWX9yL0mfY) copyright 1988 by David Mamet.
> 
> [Long Day’s Journey Into Night](https://youtu.be/vQfqKKAiwyo) copyright 1956 by Eugene O’Neill.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quoting from [2x12 Silly Love Songs](http://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=glee&episode=s02e12).

After being coached by Noah over winter break, it was appallingly obvious how bad the acting was in Dalton’s Shakespeare club. Kurt told Blaine about it over lunch.

“I’m going to stick around until after we do _Timon of Athens,_ ” he said, sipping his drink, “but after that I’m going to have to find another outlet for classical theater. I’m not even saying I’m all that good, just… I know it can be better than that, and I don’t know what to tell them to get them there.”

“I don’t think anybody’s expecting you to be the director, Kurt.” Blaine smiled, touching Kurt’s hand with his knuckles. “You’re amazing, but you don’t have be in charge of everything.”

“Well, no, but it’s not like any of them are doing any better?” He shrugged. “I just hope I get a part in _Twelve Angry Men._ The audition is next week.”

“You’ve got this,” Blaine said confidently.

It hurt a little to hear Blaine using the same words Noah had said to him about auditioning for Usdan. Noah hadn’t called him at all since break had ended, nor had he responded to the occasional texts Kurt had sent him. Kurt wasn’t exactly surprised by this, considering how Noah had dealt with separation in the past, but it was still a disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” He looked up to see Blaine watching him. “Did I say the wrong thing?”

“No, no.” He took Blaine’s hand without thinking about it, and smiled when Blaine’s face lit up. “I’m thinking about Noah.”

“You still miss him,” said Blaine, nodding. “Did you run into him over break?”

“We had… a strange reconciliation. And then we broke up again. Kind of.” He shook his head. “I don’t really know where we are. In some ways I feel like we’re getting along better than ever, and in others…”

“It’s okay, Kurt.” Blaine squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t have to make sense. Love seldom does.”

Kurt focused on the table. “We stopped using that word, though. _I_ stopped using it. I didn’t think our… what we were doing, that it exactly qualified as love.”  

“I don’t think you have to be _doing_ anything to be in love with someone.” Blaine’s voice was quiet. When Kurt looked up at him, he averted his eyes.

“Maybe not. I think… my dad always told me it was important to be in love when I chose to be intimate with someone? And I’ve always thought, as much as he liked Noah, he was a little disappointed when I chose to do that with him.”

“Kurt, from what you’ve told me about your father, I think he’s already proud of you about a lot of things. Being disappointed about one thing isn’t going to change that.”

He couldn’t find fault with that comment, but like so many things Blaine said, it still felt like a bit of a backhanded compliment. Maybe he’d been looking for Blaine to deny the idea that Noah was worthy of disappointment.

“Anyway,” said Blaine brightly, “I’m here to distract you, not help you wallow. How about a trip to the mall followed by a rom-com?”

Kurt shook his head. “That sounds fun, but I have so much homework to do. Maybe another time.”

“Come on. I missed you over break. I could bring the rom-com to your room instead after you study?” He tugged on Kurt’s hand, giving him puppy-dog eyes. “Don’t you want to hear about my recent obsession with Jeremiah? He definitely wins the award for most stylish crush.”

“Yes, okay!” Kurt laughed. “That sounds doable. And I missed you too.”

Spending time with Blaine was always easy and entertaining. He had endless stories to make Kurt laugh. In many ways, Kurt felt like Blaine understood him better than anyone ever had. They spoke the same language. Blaine got his cultural references and had the same awareness of contemporary trends. He was a reflective listener, and he didn’t tease, even about Kurt’s most embarrassing moments.

After dinner, Blaine waited a very generous two hours before showing up with two decaf lattes and a bag of caramel-flavored rice cakes. They talked nonstop for fifteen minutes until Kurt’s roommate finally left.

“Lawrence is nice,” said Kurt, “but I think he might have gotten a little used to having a single before I showed up.”

“Better than my roommate,” said Blaine, crawling into Kurt’s bottom bunk beside him. “He’s the poster child for straight-but-not-narrow, and he’s an excellent student, but honestly, I don’t think he has cracked one joke at me all year. I’m starting to wonder if _I’m_ the one with no sense of humor.”

Sitting with Blaine in that darkened enclosed space felt a little like being in a blanket fort, something Kurt had never done with a boy growing up. On an impulse, he clasped Blaine’s hand, and Blaine beamed at him.

“Well, you make me laugh all the time,” said Kurt, “so I don’t think it’s you.”

Blaine rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder momentarily. While Kurt helped himself to rice cakes, he picked up Kurt’s copy of _Shadow of the Giant_ on his nightstand. He raised an eyebrow. “Orson Scott Card? Seriously?”

“I know, I know, science fiction’s not normally my thing, but I got hooked on the series after I read it in eighth grade. I’ve been reading it out loud with Noah on the phone.”

“It’s not that.” Blaine turned the book over and tapped the author blurb on the back cover. “This author. He’s a total right wing homophobic Mormon.”

“Oh.” Kurt was startled. He licked his lips, staring at the book. “I — had no idea.”

“Yeah, he’s written more than one essay against gay marriage, and lots of other stuff. It’s pretty appalling.”

Kurt accepted the book as Blaine handed it over to him. “Wow, that’s really surprising, considering how thoughtful and compassionate his stories are. They’re full of anti-racist sentiments.”

He wrinkled his brow at Kurt. “I can’t believe you’re defending him.”

“I’m not! I don’t know anything about him.” Kurt set the book down beside his pillow. “But I know his books. I’m not sure I would say the two are equivalent.”

“How can that be? Are you saying you’d read a great book if it were written by… I don’t know, a serial killer?”

“Are _you_ saying a homophobic writer is equivalent to a serial killer?” Kurt shook his head. “Look, this is a stupid thing to argue about. I know Eric Clapton and Elvis Costello are total racists, but that doesn’t stop me from enjoying their music.”

“Well, maybe it should!” exclaimed Blaine. “Why would you want to put your money into the pockets of people who don’t support your community?”

Kurt found his brain continuing to argue, but he just shook his head again. “I don’t know, Blaine. It’s not something I’ve thought about before, but… I will, now.”

Blaine paused for a moment. Then he smiled and patted Kurt’s leg. “Good. I know you’ll reach a reasonable conclusion after you’ve had a chance to consider it.”

He was more than a little irritated at Blaine’s condescending attitude, but even more unsettled by the idea that a beloved author might have so successfully managed to escape his scrutiny. They avoided discussing anything else controversial for the rest of the evening. Kurt hugged him goodbye, and it felt like Blaine’s enjoyment of his company was genuine, even if they’d had a disagreement.

Kurt spent a long time reading essays before bed about Orson Scott Card’s political viewpoints and others’ thoughts on the matter, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to read Card’s political essays themselves. He felt a little too heartbroken for that.

Lawrence didn’t strike Kurt as much of a reader, but he asked him anyway: “Did you read _Ender’s Game_ when you were younger?”

“Oh, sure,” Lawrence nodded.

“Did you know about his conservative political views? I just found out about them myself, and I’m feeling a little disillusioned.”

Lawrence shrugged. “Well, I was raised LDS myself, so…” He clarified, at Kurt’s blank look, “Latter-Day Saints. The Mormon church.”

“Oh!”

Kurt must have hesitated too long, because Lawrence smiled and added, “I’m not a Mormon anymore. But there’s a lot of LDS authors and actors and business owners out there, you know? I think you’d have to do a lot of boycotting if you decided not to support all of them.”

Kurt sighed at his computer screen. “I don’t think all of them sit on the board of the National Organization for Marriage.”

After brushing his teeth, he sent Noah a text, though without much hope of a reply. _I just found out something that made me really sad._

But Noah wrote back almost immediately. _You okay?_

Seeing those two words on the screen immediately made him feel unreasonably happy, but he squashed that down. _Orson Scott Card is an outspoken opponent of gay marriage._

_So?_

Kurt scowled at his phone. _So maybe we shouldn’t be advocating for him._

_I’m confused what you mean by advocate. Because I’m pretty sure I have spent zero dollars on that guy. All of his books I got were free or used or from the library._

Kurt climbed into bed, trying to figure out how to frame the argument. He wasn’t sure why he was now arguing on Blaine’s side when he had been arguing against it before. _Some people are boycotting his creative works because of the things he says about gay marriage._

_I’m an opponent of any kind of marriage. You going to boycott me?_

He gritted his teeth. _You’re not using your political influence or writing essays speaking against people’s rights to get married, Noah._

_So what’s this about? Do you want to stop reading to me?_

Kurt felt a twinge in his heart. _No, I really don’t._

_Then I don’t know what to tell you, Kurt._

He couldn’t think of a way to respond to that. It was the same problem he’d always had when it came to Noah: should he do the thing that made sense, or the thing his heart wanted? In the end, Kurt just abandoned his phone on the floor next to his bed and turned off the light.

His communication with Noah was so limited that Kurt didn’t even hear about the zombie mashup with the football team until Finn called him and invited him to come to the game.

“What do you mean, the football team is going to dance?” Kurt asked.

 _“Coach Beiste and Mr. Schue are making the whole team join Glee club until after the game,”_ said Finn. He didn’t sound all that happy about it. _“We’re doing the halftime show. I think it might be kind of cool.”_

“I don’t know.”

_“You could come with your dad and my mom. Nobody would mess with you, and I know everybody in Glee would like to see you. Just come.”_

Finn wasn’t all that good at being persuasive, but it helped that Kurt actually did want to visit. Blaine picked up on his indecisiveness at lunch.

“How about I go with you?” he asked.

“You’d do that?”

“Sure. I’d even drive.”

“You don’t have to.” But Kurt felt a flood of relief. He smiled across the table at Blaine. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Is that even a real question?” laughed Blaine. “I’m your friend. Friends want to spend time together. Plus I have a secret obsession with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.” He took another spoonful of yogurt. “We’ve known each other for three months now. Can’t you just take it as read that I’m in your corner?”

“I’m guessing that’s a sports metaphor, but I don’t know which sport it is,” Kurt admitted.

“And that’s just another adorable thing about you, Kurt Hummel.”

The drive was pleasant, even though he and Blaine had to go right from their last Friday class directly to the game in order to make it to Lima on time. They barely had time to say two words to Carole and his dad. But the game itself turned out to be a disaster. Finn, Puck, Mike, Sam and Artie seemed to be the only ones left on the field, but Kurt didn’t have any idea how that could be. Kurt was especially confused when Rachel, Mercedes, Tina and Lauren appeared on the field in football uniforms.

“Is this part of Glee club’s performance?” he asked over the cheering of the crowd.

Blaine grasped his arm in excitement. “No, I think they’re filling in for the missing team members! This is _so_ avant garde.”

“Missing…?” Then Kurt spotted Karofsky in the stands next to Azimio and Strando, wearing their regular clothes, four rows below them. He felt himself shrink back into himself, all the happy feelings about being back at McKinley vanishing. “I… don’t think I want to stay, Blaine.”

“What? Why?” Blaine actually looked hurt. “It’s the championship game, Kurt.”

“Dave Karofsky’s right there,” he hissed. “Come on, can’t we at least move up to where my dad and Carole are sitting?”

“Oh, he’s not going to bother you,” Blaine said. His attention was on the action on the field, but Kurt just felt sick. He shuffled nervously on the bench.

Then he heard an, “Excuse me,” and Michael Lewis sat down beside him, wearing a stocking cap that didn’t quite cover up his ears. He gave Kurt a polite smile. “Hi, Kurt.”

“Um… hi.” He tugged on Blaine’s arm. “This is my friend Blaine from Dalton. Blaine, this is Michael. He plays guitar in Glee sometimes.”

“Sure, I remember,” said Blaine, smiling as he shook Michael’s hand. “You were at Sectionals. Nice to meet you.”

That was about all the politeness Kurt had in him at the moment. “What are you doing here?”

Michael pointed his gaze toward the field. “He didn’t want you to worry.”

Kurt stared at Michael, then at the Coach conferring with what was left of the team. “What do you mean, worry?”

“Hey, I’m kind of a terrible bodyguard, but even I can defend you from Karofsky in a public place.”

“A bodyguard?” Kurt repeated. “Did Noah send you?”

“Noah?” Michael said blankly. “Why would —“ He shook his head in confusion. “No, it was Finn. He asked me to keep an eye on you, because… well, you can see he’s a little busy.”

“Wow, really?” Kurt smiled, and Michael smiled back. His eyes were a little anxious. “That’s really nice of you.”

“He cares about you a lot.” There was a big cheer from the crowd, and Michael and Blaine both clapped. Kurt didn’t even pretend to be watching the game.

“So I take it the two of you are talking again,” said Kurt.

Michael hesitated, but he nodded. “After Puck and Rachel asked me to do that song in Glee a couple weeks ago—“

“Wait a minute, what song?”

“ _Need You Now_ by Lady Antebellum. I gotta say, it was a little weird at first, but Rachel assured me it wasn’t about Finn. And then Strando called Puck a girl and he started that fight with all the football players…” Michael narrowed his eyes. “Huh.”

“What?” asked Kurt nervously. Blaine was oblivious, shouting something at the referee.

“I guess it never occurred to me that someone else besides Rachel might have chosen that song.” He leaned in closer. “Is something going on between you and Puck?”

“No,” said Kurt. It was an unfortunately honest answer, and Michael appeared to accept it.

“Well, whatever. They sounded good. I think Finn wanted to make sure I knew he wasn’t feeling weird about me doing that song. I guess we’re cool now.”

They didn’t talk much for the rest of the game. Kurt wasn’t sure how to tell Michael how much better he felt with him standing there. When Karofsky and his cronies vanished from the stands before half time, Kurt edged a little closer toward Michael, who put a hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

“They’re on the field,” he said, pointing.

It appeared to be all the football players and the Glee club in very convincing zombie costumes. Even the cheerleaders were there, which was really confusing, since today was supposed to be the date of their own competition in another city. Finn was tall enough that he was easy to spot, even in makeup, but Kurt couldn’t be sure which one was Noah. They rose to their feet with the rest of the crowd.

“This is _awesome,”_ Blaine gushed, taking Kurt’s hand. “Your Glee club did all this? The collaboration with the football team is fantastic!”

“We have a great director,” Kurt said. He noticed Michael eyeing their joined hands, and wondered if he should clarify his and Blaine’s status as just-friends.

Suddenly another person joined the team on the field. He pulled a football jersey over his head and settled into place beside Finn with a joyous high-five and a big smile on his face. Kurt could only stare.

“That’s Dave Karofsky, isn’t it?” said Blaine. “Hey, he’s a pretty good dancer.”

He was more than pretty good. It was impossible not to get swept away in the excitement of the crowd. Kurt watched with astonishment as Karofsky hugged and high-fived his way through the mixed group. When the team returned to the field to play the second half, still wearing their zombie makeup, Karofsky was with them.

“I guess everybody has forgiven him,” he said, trying not to feel uneasy.

“I wouldn’t assume that,” said Michael. “I know Dave. Nobody wants to be ordinary more than he does. This is way outside his comfort zone. There’ll be backlash on Monday.”

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about,” said Blaine.

Michael shrugged. “Maybe.”

The intimidation strategy worked like a charm, and the Titans ended up winning the game. Michael vanished into the crowd when it was over. Kurt tugged on Blaine’s arm. “I’m going to look for Finn.”

“That’s fine,” Blaine said. “You know, if you’d rather stay this weekend and find another ride back, I can head back to Dalton alone.”

The suggestion was casual, but Kurt could tell from the expression on his face what outcome Blaine was hoping for. “No, that’s okay,” he said. “I’ll come back with you. I just want to — you know, congratulate them.”

Running into Noah, breathless and bright-eyed, didn’t make that decision any easier, but he just nodded at him and called “Good game.”

He knew there would be no hugging in public. Kurt knew the rules. Even football players who’d just won games weren’t permitted to hug non-football players.

This thought was fresh in his mind when Finn found him on the edge of the field and swept him up in a hug that lifted him off his feet. “You came!” he shouted jubilantly, and Kurt nearly burst into tears.

“Of course I did,” he said. “You asked. It was amazing.”

“I can’t believe we pulled it off.” Finn’s smile faltered a little. Kurt followed his gaze behind him to where Michael was. Michael paused beside the stands and gave Finn a quick smile. It was so clearly a different smile than the one he’d given Kurt earlier that Kurt felt like he was witnessing something private, and had to look away.

“Would you tell Noah I was —?” he said, gesturing at the field, and Finn nodded.

“Sure. Of course. You could come out with all of us?”

“I can’t,” he said. He took a step away. “I’ve got to get back to Westerville.”

Blaine seemed to understand he didn’t want to talk on the way home. He put in the CD of the Broadway recording of _Les Miserables_ and sang by himself until Kurt finally joined him on “Who Am I?”

“I can drop you off at your dorm,” said Blaine. Kurt shook his head.

“I’m just going to get all morose if I’m by myself.”

“Well, you can come over, then. Or I could come over to your room. Whatever you want.”

Kurt had to shake his head and laugh. “Yeah, that’s… complicated.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kurt,” said Blaine, his voice soft. “I know how it feels to want things I can’t have.”

Blaine did a good job keeping him distracted for the rest of the evening. The first time he offered Kurt a beer, Kurt just said no, thanks, but the second time he tried, Kurt felt he had to be more clear: “I don’t drink.”

“You don’t have to,” Blaine assured him. “You don’t mind if I have one…?”

They watched _Dreamgirls_ , singing along, but Kurt found himself focusing on Curtis’s monologues, listening in the way Noah had coached him, instead of on the music. At one point he turned to find Blaine watching him with a funny smile and a tilt of his head.

“What?” Kurt said, smiling back.

“Just you,” murmured Blaine. “You’re so… _serious_.”

He tried not to feel uncomfortable about Blaine’s scrutiny. “About what?”

“About theater. About everything.” Blaine sighed. “I just admire you, Kurt. You’re really going to be somebody someday.”

He just said, “Thank you.” But it felt different after that, and eventually he decided it was time to leave. Blaine hugged him.

“Tonight was really fun,” he whispered into Kurt’s ear. Kurt nodded quickly and stepped away before things could get any more complicated.

When he got back to his room, he found a note on the whiteboard from Lawrence, as he often did on weekends: _At Omar’s tonight. -L._ It usually didn’t make much of a difference to Kurt whether Lawrence was there or not, but at the moment, he felt so jumpy and restless, he was glad he didn’t have to explain himself to anyone.

It wasn’t until he had already cleaned Pavarotti’s cage and showered and climbed into bed that he was willing to admit to himself what he was about to do. He ran a hand over his bare legs under the covers and picked up his phone.

 _You were very impressive tonight,_ he typed. It was slow with his left thumb, but he managed not to make any mistakes. Then he waited. It took a couple minutes to receive a reply, and by then, he was completely hard.

 _Glad you thought so,_ Noah replied. _It was kind of the Finn show._

 _I wasn’t talking about that,_ he said. _I meant sending the protective detail._

_That was Finn, too._

He smiled and ran his hand over his leg again, feeling his body’s response. _I know you told Finn to ask Michael to do it. Finn was focused on the team, not on me._ Before Noah could respond, he added, _Now I want to thank you._

_You don’t have to thank me, Kurt._

_I want to,_ he typed, and rested his hand on his erection. _I really, really want to._

There was a long pause. _How about you do that with Blaine,_ Noah said at last.

Kurt had had his suspicions about Blaine’s intentions toward him. No matter what he’d said in the past about it not being a date, Blaine’s recent behavior toward him had definitely been more than friendly. Tonight had been the first time Kurt had been certain. There was no question he could have kissed Blaine, could have asked to stay over, and Blaine would probably have said yes. And for the first time, he had been equally certain that no matter how appealing and attractive Blaine might be, it wasn’t Blaine he wanted.

 _I don’t want him,_ he said, beginning to stroke. _I want you._

There was another long pause, long enough that Kurt wondered if he should stop and wait for Noah to catch up to him. At this rate, he was going to come within minutes. But Noah’s reply stopped him cold.

 _That’s too bad, Kurt,_ he said. _I can't do that with you anymore._

What did that mean? He stared at the words on the screen, feeling his arousal pulsing under his hand, and tried to calm the wild beating of his heart.

 _Are you seeing someone else?_ he typed slowly, still with his left hand.

_Yeah, I’m seeing someone._

Kurt let go of himself and focused on his breathing. He turned over onto his stomach and put both hands on his phone, wondering what to say. _Anybody I know?_

_No, he’s not from McKinley. Or Dalton, so don’t worry._

He. Noah had said _he._ There the word was, incriminating and blatant. Noah was seeing another boy. Kurt struggled for a good thirty seconds not to feel desperately wronged. There was no way he could justify the expression of _you’re cheating on me_ when they weren’t officially dating one another.

 _Well,_ he said finally, _I hope you’re happy._ Then, realizing just how harsh that sounded, he added, _I really mean that, I’m not being a jerk about it._

_I know. It’s okay, Kurt. How about we take a little time and do our own thing, all right?_

He found himself nodding, _yes, that’s a good idea,_ before he realized Noah couldn’t see him. He swallowed sudden tears and typed, _Yes, okay. That’s fine. You can call me any time._

_Thanks._

There were no endearments, no _I love you_ s, and Kurt was pretty sure those would have been out of place anyway, but it felt awful to think he might not get to say them to Noah again after tonight. He rested his head on his pillow and let himself cry a little, still unbelievably turned on, but feeling too overwhelmed to do anything about it.

He fell asleep that way, face down, and woke up an unknown amount of time later, grinding his hips into slick wetness on his mattress. The content of his dream, whatever it had been, had taken care of his arousal for him. Before going back to sleep, he came again in the same position, thrusting into his fist and allowing himself to indulge in the bittersweet memory of Noah muttering _yeah_ beneath him.

By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, Kurt was nearly at the point of feeling like he was over Noah. It clearly wasn’t going to be the kind of epic love holiday he’d been hoping for, but he thought he’d steeled himself for the reality of that, too.

Blaine, on the other hand, was doing just about everything in the Perfect Boyfriend rulebook to ingratiate himself to Kurt. He bought Kurt coffee without asking what he wanted. Every time Kurt turned around, Blaine was touching him, just briefly enough for it not to be something worth commenting on, but often enough that the result usually left Kurt feeling turned on and a little bit used. They continued to spend a few evenings a week together, most of which were spent studying, but Blaine would usually propose a follow-up activity: a jigsaw puzzle, or an episode of one of Kurt’s favorite baking shows. One time he even offered Kurt a back massage.

“I’m really good with my hands,” he said, with customary enthusiasm. “I think it’s all the piano playing.”

“I’m sure you are,” said Kurt, smiling. “Maybe another time.”

It was getting harder to say _maybe another time_ to Blaine, _every_ time. He was going to have to figure out a way to tell him he just wanted to be friends. The truth was, unfortunately, Blaine was still his only actual friend at Dalton, and Kurt liked him a whole lot. For most of what they did, he didn’t _want_ to say no. And to make things even more complicated, he actually was attracted to Blaine. The approving looks they got from others when they went out together didn’t hurt either.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” Lawrence said one evening, after Blaine had left.

“Oh,” said Kurt, startled, “we’re not — together. We’re just friends.”

“Sure you are,” he smirked. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

He wasn’t the only person to make comments like that. Several of the Warblers talked about them as though they were already a couple. He heard the word _Klaine_ come out of the mouth of more than one person before he realized what they were referring to. They found themselves paired up whenever they went dancing, which was as often as they could manage. It was a logical thing, seeing as how they were approximately the same height, and with similar levels of enthusiasm about dancing, but it also made it hard for Kurt to get to know anybody else.

When Carole casually invited Blaine to brunch one day on the phone, he found himself responding with anger. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

 _“I didn’t say he was, Kurt,”_ she said, sounding abashed. _“I’m sorry if I overstepped any boundaries. I like Blaine very much.”_

The truth was, everybody seemed to like Blaine _very much_ \-- and a lot more than most of them had liked Noah. It was hard not to notice this pattern, but it was even harder to avoid it. The expectations of others, the path they felt were best for him, felt almost like a kind of destiny. It was both unsettling and far too convenient at the same time. The best he could do was continue to correct people when they called Blaine his boyfriend, and hope he could figure out what to do about it eventually.

As much as he was determined to stop missing Noah, it really hurt when Finn told him he’d gone to Noah’s performance of _Speed-The-Plow_ without him.

“I didn’t really understand all of it,” Finn admitted. “It was kind of funny and awful at the same time.”

“That sounds like Mamet,” agreed Kurt, trying not to feel too wistful.

Noah and Lauren dating didn’t bother him, because Kurt knew the truth about Lauren. But Noah had said he was dating a boy. He wouldn’t have had a reason to say that if it hadn’t been the truth. Kurt couldn’t stop thinking about who it might be.

The only person Kurt could think to ask about who Noah’s boyfriend might be was Chris. He knew Chris lived somewhere in Michigan. That wasn’t very much to go on. He didn’t even know his last name, although he thought he could figure that out without too much trouble.

He called his former across-the-street neighbor Andrea first. This year she was living with three other queer girls in an apartment north of Columbus. None of them were involved in theater, and most of them were a little scary to Kurt, but Andrea seemed to like them, so he figured that was what mattered.

“Did you happen to keep the brochure from Noah’s performance at Usdan?” he asked. “The one from _Midsummer Night’s Dream.”_ If anybody had kept something like that, it would be Andrea.

 _“Maybe?”_ He could hear her rummaging in her drawers. _“Hang on… I think I have my journal from 2009 somewhere…”_ There was an extended pause, after which she surfaced with a triumphant, _“Found it!”_

“Oh, cool.” He held his breath. “Can you tell me the name of the boy who played Oberon?”

_“Oberon was played by… Christopher Jansson. Wasn’t that the boy you spoke to after the show?”_

“Yeah.” He slowly let his shoulders relax. “Now I have to see if I can figure out how to contact him.”

_“All right, are you going to explain what you’re doing, because it sounds kind of stalkery.”_

He couldn’t deny it was. He gave her a brief rundown of his complicated relationship with Noah since that summer.

 _“I’m sorry he’s moved on,”_ she said, _“but honestly, Kurt, you might want to consider giving this up. Neither of you are willing to compromise on this one thing, and it’s a pretty significant thing.”_

“Do you think I’m being unreasonable?” he pleaded. “Because up until last summer, I told him _no,_ and then — the summer happened, and then I told him _yes,_ and both of them were hard, but… I couldn’t continue worrying about whether or not I was going to out him.”

 _“That’s not silly,”_ she said. _“But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.”_

“I just felt like everything was becoming about sex. I hated how much our relationship was defined by wanting each other all the time. It was like… I didn’t have any control. And every time I took some, it got unpleasant until…”

_“Until you gave up?”_

“Yeah.” He sighed, trying not to let himself get lost in the memories of Noah. “Sometimes I felt guilty for being so focused on what he looked like? But then he would perform for me, or sing to me, and that would become my focal point. Or the way he felt, or… or reading to him every night.”

She sounded amused. _“That’s kind of a lot of focal points, Kurt.”_

“I know. Shut up. It’s annoying. I don’t _want_ him to be the only boy I like. I want to enjoy this other boy who’s practically throwing himself at me.”

_“Oh, is this Blaine? Tell me more about him.”_

Kurt went dutifully through Blaine’s many good qualities. “And he’s also self-centered and vain, and obsessed with appearances.”

She laughed. _“That sounds familiar.”_

“Shut up!” he moaned. “You’re really not helping.”

_“Well, if opposites attract, maybe he’s just too much like you for you to be attracted to him.”_

“Maybe. I mean, I am attracted to him. He’s very attractive.” He rolled his eyes. “Andrea, we get along just fine, but he’s my friend, not my boyfriend. It’s _different.”_

_“Okay, okay! I’m not going to force you to like him. But stay in touch, Kurt. I want to hear how this comes out.”_

Fifteen minutes on the Internet told him that “Christopher Janssen in Michigan” was not really enough information to find a person, at least not if they didn’t want to be found. However, he happened upon a news story from 2006 attached to the web page for the Usdan summer theater program which told him that Chris Janssen, who had performed the role of Eugene in _Brighton Beach Memoirs,_ was from Birmingham, Michigan. He found eight Janssens in the Birmingham white pages and decided inconveniencing seven families was worth it.

“Hi, my name is Kurt, and I’m trying to reach Christopher Janssen?” got him five polite no answers. His spirits lifted when the sixth woman said, “Chris isn’t available right now, but I could take a message?”

“Would you please let him know I called? I’m — a friend from theater camp. A friend of a friend, really.” He left his phone number and email address and thanked her again before hanging up. Then he spent the next half hour wondering if he’d done something really stupid. Why would Chris want to talk to him in the first place? And even if he did, chances were he wouldn’t know anything.

He used the next hour to complete the online application for Usdan, making sure to check the “I’m interested in hearing more about financial aid” box. His resume was dismally brief, but he did include the performance of _Merchant of Venice_ and his participation in the university theater club, listing Janna as the contact person. After some thought, he added Mr. Puckerman’s name along with Mr. Schuester and Mrs. Wright under _References_ before pressing Send. Puck’s father might not be available to be contacted — Kurt wasn’t sure what his health status was, or if he’d returned to work — but at least his name would be familiar to Bryce and the other teachers who would see his application.

The following weekend, he drove home without Blaine. He’d had enough of spending all of his time with one person, especially when so much of his time seemed to be spent avoiding Blaine’s not-so-subtle attempts to hit on him.

“Can we have a slumber party?” he asked Rachel on the phone from the highway. “I really need to complain about my love life.”

“Only if I’m allowed to complain about mine,” she said. “And trust me, I can do that without revealing any of Finn’s secrets. I have plenty of experience with this. I’ll call Mercedes and Tina and set the whole thing up.”

Tina wasn’t able to be there, but Mercedes was more than happy to join them. Kurt felt a lot better already by the time he reached Lima.

At least, he did until he pulled into his driveway and saw Noah’s truck parked beside the mailbox. After a brief impulse to put the Navigator into reverse and head to Rachel’s house four hours early, he sighed and brought his laundry into the house.

As Kurt hugged his dad and Carole, he could hear Finn and Noah’s energetic voices rising up from the basement. Carole gave him a tolerant smile.

“Finn got a secondhand Wii and installed it downstairs on the big screen. We haven’t seen much of him since, but we have seen several of his friends coming in and out of the house.”

“Including Michael?” Kurt asked.

She nodded. “As far as I know, he counts as a friend too. _Just_ a friend.”

“I think you’d be able to tell if things changed in that department. Finn doesn’t have much of a poker face.” He hesitated. “I’m not sure if Noah wants to see me. Can you let him know I’m here, and I’ll stay in the kitchen until he comes up?”

She looked a little sad about this, but she nodded before heading downstairs. His dad followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the counter while Kurt got a drink.

“Hey, don’t let me forget, I’ve got this month’s tuition check for you,” said his dad. “You can deliver it in person. Knocks off a $20 processing fee.”

Kurt grimaced. “I still don’t know how you and Carole are managing to make ends meet.”

“Oh, well, you know. Finn’s surviving on gruel.”

“Bacon-flavored gruel,” Kurt added. His dad nodded.

“Exactly. And we stopped heating his room. We just thaw him out every morning before school.” He shook his head. “Seriously, Kurt, that’s not something you should be worrying about. Finances are my responsibility. You’ll have enough years of your life where you have to take care of yourself. And probably your old man, if Social Security goes where I think it’s going.” He grimaced. “I don’t know what the yahoos in the Ohio house have been thinking with the crappy legislation they’ve been shoveling at us. Some days I think _I_ should run for public office.”

“You’ve got better ideas than most people,” Kurt agreed.

“So, anyway. We’re okay. As long as you’re getting what you need.”

He watched Kurt’s face as he nodded. “I think so. I mean, I feel safer? And it’s hard, but… I think it might be good for me.”

His dad seemed to appreciate that answer. They heard the front door open, then close, and then Finn appeared in the doorway looking embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” Kurt said quickly. “He deserved an out. He told me to give him some space, and... he didn’t know I was going to be here.”

“Well, no, but…” Finn shook his head unhappily. “That sucks, man.”

Kurt couldn’t argue with that. He let himself dwell in his own disappointment and regret for the rest of the afternoon, to the point that when he was comfortably relaxing in his pajamas on Rachel’s four-poster bed, he was ready to talk about it.

“It’s Noah,” he told them. “We’ve been seeing each other on and off since _RENT._ Mostly off, to be honest, but when it was on, it was… really, really on, if you know what I mean.”

Mercedes and Rachel both nodded sympathetically. “I think we both understand.”

“Yeah. And this winter break, we were kind of on again. I told him ultimately I wasn’t going to compromise being out, but he seemed to understand that. I mean, I thought he did.” He sighed, leaning back against the pile of pillows. “And then when I called him last week, he told me he was, and I quote, _off the table._ He’s dating somebody else. I was absolutely devastated.”

Rachel looked at him curiously. “Did he ever actually say you two were dating?”

“Well, not in so many words. But we were always reading dialogue, and he was always… you know, smiling at me…” He wrinkled up his nose. “Oh, my God, you think I made up the whole thing in my head.”

“Listen, we've all been there,” Mercedes assured him. “At least I have. With you.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I mean, if Finn thinks that he's just gonna walk out of my life, he's wrong, 'cause I'm gonna go up to that kissing booth tomorrow with a $100 bill…”

While Rachel spoke determinedly about redirecting Finn’s attention back to her, Kurt had an argument with himself in his head. It wasn’t an unfamiliar argument, but in this case, it felt different, because it wasn’t about feelings, it was about actions. _Noah was never your boyfriend,_ said the rational side, _and you need to stop thinking about it that way._ But the other side, the one that had spent the past two and a half years talking with Noah almost every day, had a different opinion, one that made him feel desperately sad. _You depended on him differently,_ said this side. _When your dad was sick, he was the first one you called. You trusted him with everything, and he trusted you. What you had was more than just friendship and sex._

“Hey, hey.” Mercedes put a hand on his ankle, interrupting his thoughts. “We're supposed to be giving Kurt advice, remember?”

“Yeah,” agreed Rachel.

Mercedes raised an eyebrow at him. “You are going to the Gap Attack, though, right?”

He blinked, wondering for a moment what that had to do with his current issue. Then he remembered Blaine’s predicament with Jeremiah, and he felt a surge of resentment. Why did they all assume Blaine was going to be the next boy Kurt was going to date? He did his best to wave off their suggestion. Mercedes’ advice about giving up guys entirely to focus on performing sounded more palatable.

“Sometimes you have to choose between love and talent,” she said. “And as far as I'm concerned, we all need to fly solo for a while.”

When Kurt came home to get ready for the Warblers’ Valentine’s Day performance at Breadstix, he found Finn huddled in the center of his bed, wrapped in his quilt and shivering.

“What happened to you?” he asked.  

“Mono,” Finn groaned. “I did a kissing booth to raise money for Glee club.”

“I heard Quinn got it too.” He raised an eyebrow. “At least now you’ve solidified your reputation with her.”

“I guess that’s something. And I got to be a celebrity for a couple days.”

Kurt crossed his arms and stared at him. “Do you really think being popular is more important than getting what you want?”

“Well, I’m not going to _get_ what I want,” snapped Finn. “So maybe I’d rather be popular, yes. At least then I have a chance at being happy.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “You got to kiss all the girls in the school. Did that make you happy?”

“No.” He stared at the ceiling, then rolled over to face Kurt. His face was so guilty, Kurt almost felt sorry for him. “I… kissed Michael. Not at the kissing booth.”

“Yes? Last I heard you did a lot more than that.”

“That was before he said… we were supposed to just be friends. But he saw me kissing all those girls and it just got a little out of hand.” He sighed. “And then Rachel confronted me and she asked me… and I told her. Fireworks.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve never felt… fireworks, when I kiss her. But I do feel things for her. I care about her. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“That’s what Blaine told me the other day. He cares too much.”

“She deserves more than screwing around.” Finn closed his watery eyes. “I just feel so confused in my head, Kurt. I don’t know what to do.”

He slid his arms into the sleeves of his Warblers blazer and smoothed the front of it. “I think we just keep going. Deal with whatever’s in front of us, and don’t worry about the rest. This is what’s happening right here, right now.”

Finn opened his eyes suspiciously. “That doesn’t sound like you, Kurt.”

“Well, maybe that’s better,” he said. _Being like me is what got me here in the first place._

It was hard to watch Noah sitting in the booth at Breadstix, laughing and talking with Lauren, but singing with the Warblers made up for it. All the smiles on the people in the audience, they had done that. They had touched them. It left Kurt feeling confident and secure in a way he hadn’t felt in weeks.

After the performance, Kurt squeezed in the booth with Rachel, Mercedes, Tina and Mike. Noah didn’t say anything to him, and he and Lauren disappeared quickly afterwards, but Kurt decided he wasn’t going to let it get to him. He didn’t even object when Tina and Mercedes teased him about all the flirty looks Blaine had been giving him throughout their performance.

In the middle of dinner, he got a text from an unknown number. _Who is this?_

After a moment, Kurt texted back. _Shouldn’t you be telling me that? You know, Hello, my name is…_

_My name is Chris. You called my house._

Kurt blinked, glancing around at the rest of the table. “Um… I think I should take this,” he told them, edging out of the booth. In the relative privacy of the hallway, he typed, _This is Kurt. I’m Noah’s friend. We met at Usdan a couple summers ago when I came to see him perform._

_Sure, I remember. You outed him to his baby mama._

Kurt didn’t know what to say in response, but while he was trying to figure out a reply, Chris went on, _I’m just messing with you. Last I heard you guys had gotten over that._

 _We did,_ Kurt said. _It’s been complicated._

_It always is with closet cases. So what’s up? You joining us this summer?_

_Joining you?_

_Yeah, at camp. Noah said you were dynamite._

He felt the smile bloom on his face. _He said that?_

_Girl, he couldn’t shut up about you. You two still a thing?_

_Not anymore. But I did send in an application for Usdan._   _I guess I’m anxious because I’ve never done anything like this before._

_Well, I can help you get ready, if Noah’s not around anymore._

_That’s really nice of you, but I was actually calling about Noah, not about Usdan. He said he’s dating a boy and it’s nobody at my school or his._

_And you’re asking if I know who it is?_

Kurt eyed his friends at the other end of the hallway. _Yes?_

_Isn’t that kind of gossipy?_

He hesitated, already feeling guilty. _It might be, a little, but it’s not the malicious kind._

_Haha, I’m totally kidding. I’m the gossipiest. I’ll see what I can find out._

Kurt laughed out loud just as Artie rolled by on his way to the restroom. He paused, smiling curiously up at him, but Kurt just waved him on. “I’ll tell you later.”

 _I’m relieved you’re not judging me for wanting to know,_ he told Chris.

_Well, whatever your motivation, I’m on the side of true love. Or entertainment, whatever happens first. But I can also be on the side of pissing off Noah, if he deserves it._

_No, no, it’s not about that. I don’t want to antagonize him._

_What_ ** _do_** _you want to do?_

Kurt stared at the screen for a moment. Then he typed, _For now, consider this to be reconnaissance._

_Fair enough. I’ll let you know what I learn, Kurt. And in the meantime, how about you let me help you get your audition videos ready?_

They exchanged email addresses before Kurt headed back to the table where Rachel and the others were waiting. No matter how enjoyable or fruitful that conversation had been, Kurt couldn’t quite dredge up an authentic smile for them. He’d had to modify his original answer to Chris’ question about what he wanted to do about Noah. The words kept repeating in his head, like a refrain: _I want to figure out if Noah’s worth fighting for._

_ _

<https://youtu.be/VAkL3xrNktM>

_Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor_   
_Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore_   
_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind  
For me it happens all the time_

_\- Lady Antebellum, “Need You Now”_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy quoting from 2x14 BIOTA and 2x16 Original Song. I couldn’t let these episodes go by without some modifications of Burt’s speech about appropriate sleepovers and Blaine’s visit to Burt at the garage. -amy

Kurt took Noah’s advice and told the man and the woman hearing auditions for _Twelve Angry Men_ that he was interested in Number Eight or Number Four. They let him read his prepared monologue, even though all the rest of the boys read the ones provided. The woman looked impressed, nodding. They conferred for what seemed like a long time before the woman turned back to him.

“Can you come back at three-thirty to read with a small group?” she asked.

“Yes! Sure.” He must have sounded a little too excited, because she laughed. “Sorry. It’s my first play.”

“Not according to your resume?” She glanced it over, nodding. “See you then… Kurt.”

He wasn’t about to call Noah, but he had a few minutes before his next class began. He decided it wasn’t too weird to text Chris about it after he’d offered to help Kurt prepare his auditions for Usdan.

 _It’s Kurt again,_ he typed. _I got called back for Twelve Angry Men this afternoon._

 _I remember who this number is, silly,_ Chris replied. _And break a leg! When’s your next reading?_

Blaine sat down beside him and got his notebook out of his bag. He didn’t interrupt, though he looked curious.

“I was telling my friend Chris about the audition,” Kurt said.

Blaine nodded. “Who’s Chris?”

“He’s a senior who goes to theater camp with Noah.”

“How did the two of you meet?”

Blaine’s questions were nothing but polite, and Kurt guessed he was just making conversation, because that was what Blaine did. But he felt a little annoyed by how intrusive it struck him. He couldn’t tell if it was something Blaine was doing, or if he was just being overly sensitive.

“He was Oberon when Andrea and I drove out to see Noah in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream,”_ Kurt told him _._ “He said he would help me prepare my audition for Usdan.”

“Mmm. Sounds like a useful person to know.” He smiled. “You’ll have to introduce me some time.”

He was saved from having to answer by the arrival of their teacher, but Kurt had to wonder if a person’s _usefulness_ was the first characteristic Blaine thought of when it came to friends. Then he felt a little guilty, because wasn’t that the reason he'd sought out Chris to begin with?

 _It's not like Chris needs me for a friend,_ he thought. _He’s a senior, and he’s talented and outgoing._ But then he thought that had been Finn’s excuse for not making friends with Michael for all that time, and it seemed that he’d been dead wrong about that.

“How do you tell somebody you want to be their friend without making it seem like you’re coming on to them?” he asked Lawrence before bed.

Lawrence thought about it. “Is he gay?”

“Yeah,” said Kurt. Lawrence shrugged.

“I think just be prepared to turn him down if he misinterprets you,” he said. “Otherwise, you’re just going to be second-guessing yourself all the time. Be yourself and don’t worry about how it seems.”

Kurt sent a brief thanks to Chris before going to bed. _The callback went really well, I think,_ he said. _I’ll find out tomorrow. Thanks again for your support._

 _You got it,_ Chris replied.

_I don’t have many theater friends, other than Noah._

_Well, it’s the geekiest fraternity you’d ever want to belong to, but we take care of our own._

He went to sleep smiling, and for once, he didn’t dream about Noah.

Although Chris didn’t find out any information about the boy Noah was seeing, he and Kurt began talking regularly. While mostly it was casual conversation, at least some of it was about Kurt’s monologues. Chris had excellent advice about how to make his audition for Usdan stand out. Unlike Noah’s suggestions, his were all technical and very specific, down to the lines he was saying. Even Kurt could tell Chris’ advice made a difference. The video clips he’d recorded were waiting on his computer, ready to send, and he felt pretty good about all three of them.

On the way to Warblers practice, Blaine gave Kurt a little shoulder bump. “Did you hear about Rachel’s party?”

“Um… no? She’s having a party? And how did you hear about it?”

“She put it on Facebook.” He bounced expectantly. “I think we should go. Put in a show of support for her.”

“Okay?” Kurt gave him a dubious look. “Is that really your idea of a good time on a Saturday night?”

“Well, if we’re looking at the Venn diagram of musical theater and non-alcoholic pursuits, doesn’t Rachel comprise the whole middle section? Come on, Kurt.” He tugged on Kurt’s arm. “Can I RSVP for me and my one-plus?”

Kurt rolled his eyes, but he smiled. Of course he was happy that Blaine was so comfortable with his friends. “I suppose. Except… Noah might be there.”

“So? The two of you aren’t dating anymore. I think it’s important to be able to get along with your exes. Refute the catty gay stereotype.”

When Kurt stopped at his house before heading over to Rachel’s, he found Finn sitting by himself on the couch in front of the Wii. He tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, aren’t you coming to Rachel’s thing tonight?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass.” Finn tossed the game controller on the table. “She doesn’t need me there.”

“I would beg to differ, _mon frere._ Come on, what are you going to do all evening while all your friends are attempting to have a good time at Rachel Berry’s house? Do I need to check your browser history?” The guilty look on Finn’s face made him pause and laugh. “I was kidding. You can watch all the porn you want.”

“It’s not exactly because I _want,”_ Finn muttered. “Can I call it research? Since I’m not getting a chance to try out the stuff I _actually_ want to do?”

“If that makes you feel less bad about doing it?” Kurt moved around to sit on the coffee table, watching Finn’s eyes shift away. “Finn, I’m not a fan of porn, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think other people shouldn’t avail themselves of it.”

Finn gave him a half-smile. “Even if I’m getting it from your ex-boyfriend?”

“Maybe I don’t need to know the details,” he said quickly. “I’m well aware of how extensive his collection is. Come on, Finn. Being at Rachel’s would at least distract you from thinking about Michael.”

“I guess.” He gave Kurt a curious look. “What about you? Puck’s gonna be there with Lauren.”

“Lauren’s not my competition. I don’t know who _is,_ but she’s just a convenient excuse.” He hauled Finn to his feet. “The Navigator’s waiting in the driveway.”

Kurt refused to read anything into the fact that Noah was wearing the shirt he’d bought for him for his birthday. He considered objecting when Noah talked Rachel into letting him break into her dad’s liquor cabinet, but in the end, he decided Rachel’s basement wasn’t the worst place in the world for people to get drunk.

It was somewhat amusing to realize just how many overlapping couples and former couples there were in Glee. Kurt stood in the corner sipping his club soda while Santana and Sam and Quinn and Brittany circled around one another.

“It’s like freaking _Twelfth Night_ in here,” he commented to Blaine, who was working on his second red Solo cup of undefined contents.

“Pardon?” Blaine asked, but Kurt just shook his head, grinning to himself. Nobody else had to appreciate his theater references. The fact that he was willing to stand there and feel smug about knowing them made it clear just how invested he’d become.

Blaine’s eyes lit up as the music shifted. He pressed his cup into Kurt’s hand and stumbled joyously toward the dance floor. Then Kurt heard a familiar voice.

“You’re not dancing.”

He took a fortifying breath and turned to Noah, who was dumping a fresh bag of ice into the cooler. He shrugged. “I might, eventually.”

Noah wasn’t really looking at him, but Kurt caught the flash of his smile. “Is it a world to hide virtues in?”

Kurt wasn’t even surprised when he searched for the quote on his phone and discovered it was from _Twelfth Night._ After that, he told himself it didn’t matter whether or not Noah was watching him and let himself dance.

Even Spin-The-Bottle was entertaining, particularly when they collectively decided gender was irrelevant. Kurt got kisses from Sam, Tina and Finn, although Finn’s was on the cheek and accompanied by a whispered, “Sorry, dude.”

“It’s a game, Finn,” Kurt assured him. “Everybody else is too drunk to read anything into anything.”

Kurt watched Noah whisper first into Mike’s ear, then into Sam’s on the other side of him. It didn’t occur to him what Noah might be doing until he saw Sam lean way over in front of Noah to catch Brittany’s spin.

He approached Noah at the bar after the game was over. Kurt felt an inexplicable jolt of sadness when he noticed Noah had taken out his contacts and was wearing his glasses. 

“Why did you even bother to sit with us in the circle if you weren’t going to actually play?” he asked.

Noah’s eyebrows went up behind his thick frames. “Not sure why it matters to you. Unless you were hoping for a kiss.”

 _Not in front of everybody else,_ he thought, and frowned at him. “I suppose it’s no different from the way you live the rest of your life. Watching from the side, letting everybody else take the risks.”

Noah actually laughed. He set an empty cup in front of him and filled it with ice. “Are you trying to get a rise out of me, Kurt?”

“Only if you’re going to admit I’m right.”

“You’re usually right.” He filled the cup with juice and handed it to Kurt. “Especially when I’m drunk.”

Noah’s hand on the cup was entirely steady. Kurt had a wild, fleeting impulse to ask Noah to breathe on him to see if he could smell alcohol or not. He took the cup and sipped it carefully, but it did indeed appear to simply be juice.

Kurt had witnessed Blaine have a few beers before, but this was the first time he’d seen him seriously impaired. Making out with Rachel was clearly only the beginning of Blaine’s inebriated amorous adventures.

“You’re really tall,” Blaine said to Finn in the back seat of the Navigator on the way home.

“You, uh, said before.” Finn sounded more bemused than concerned. “Hey, how about you stay on your side of the car, all right?”

“Brothers,” Blaine said, his voice a purr. “The two of you together, that’s… really hot.”

Kurt choked on a laugh. “Blaine, we’re not that kind of _close.”_

“But you’re in the same bedroom. Don’t you ever think about it?” Blaine’s sigh came out like a groan. “Sneak over to the other’s bed in the middle of the night…”

“Maybe he should stay on the couch,” said Finn. “Oh, uh… thanks, Blaine, but… your hand can go back in your own lap.”

“I’m sorry, Finn,” said Kurt. “Look, Blaine, don’t make me pull this car over.”

“Yeah, actually, maybe you _should_ pull this car over. He’s got that pre-puke look. You get pretty good at spotting it after a while. C’mon, buddy, let me get your seat belt for you…”

Kurt waited in the front seat while Finn assisted Blaine out of the car and over to the curb to deposit the contents of his stomach on the grass. Finn didn’t look bothered by the experience.

“Better now than later, man,” Finn assured Blaine, patting his back while he recovered. He shrugged at Kurt, who was watching them with concern and no small amount of distaste. “He’ll be okay. I’ll take the couch, though, if you don’t mind. Make him drink water before he crashes. Oh, and, um, you might want to brush his teeth for him if he can’t do it.”

Blaine slept hard and woke up disoriented at exactly the moment Kurt’s father came into their bedroom to get help with brunch (“What exactly is a shirred egg?”). Kurt didn’t think much of it until his dad called him on it when Kurt emerged from the basement later.

“Look,” his dad said, “I need you to ask me before you have someone sleep over.”

Kurt stared at him. “Dad, we were fully clothed the entire time. Blaine was too drunk to drive, so I let him crash here. I was being responsible.”

His dad frowned. “Wait a minute, you kids are drinking now?”

“Finn and I didn't have any, if that's what you're worried about.”

“No,” protested his dad, “I’m worried about you being inappropriate _in my house.”_

Kurt could feel his irritation rising to dangerous levels. “And if Noah had a sleepover with Finn, would that be inappropriate?”

“That's different.”

“Because they wouldn't have sex?”

“No, I—“ His dad paused, obviously rattled. “I would hope they wouldn’t! I mean, I would never allow Finn to have a _girl_ sleep over in his bed.”

“But gender isn’t necessarily a determining factor for who we might want to have sex with,” Kurt pointed out. “Maybe more for me than anybody else I know, but I think for Finn, maybe not at all. So how are you going to decide who to let sleep over?”

“Hey.” His dad gave him a petulant look. “It’s been a long time since that was even a question.”

“So it’s not what gender we have sex with, it’s that we might have sex at all. Is that even a reasonable fear? I mean, you know Noah and I were sexually active.”

Now his dad’s face was entirely red. “I wasn’t about to ask for details.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay… look, what do you want from me here, Dad? Are you looking for an apology? Fine. I’ll ask before I have new people sleep over. But you have to be prepared to give me, and Finn, a fair and reasonable answer when we ask if we can have our boyfriends _or_ girlfriends sleep over. It’s going to happen. And I promise, it’s not that we’re not going to have sex — it’s just that if you tell us not to do it here, we’re going to do it somewhere else. Maybe you’d prefer that.”

“Maybe I would,” snapped his dad. Then he sighed, running a hand over his forehead. “I’m going to have to talk this over with Carole. It’s not just my decision anymore, you know.”

“I know,” he said primly. He was a little proud that he’d managed to get through that entire speech without descending into complete embarrassment. “Thank you for being willing to consider it.”

His dad’s expression changed from exasperated to pleased in three seconds. “You think you… you know, might have another guy lined up?”

“I’ll be sure to let you know when I do,” he said. “But honestly, I think Finn might be the one you want to talk to about that.”

Kurt had to give his dad at least a little credit for even attempting the conversation. Even so, he had to wonder what his dad thought Finn’s sex life had _already_ looked like, considering he’d been ready to take responsibility for fathering Quinn’s baby at the beginning of sophomore year. Kurt might be throwing Finn under the bus a little here, but it was equally possible he might be doing them both a favor.

 _Assuming I’m ever going to have a sex life again._ He sighed and shook off the melancholy thought.

“One more thing, Dad,” he said. “I’m applying for financial aid for that summer theater program in New York, the one Noah goes to every year? I need your signature before I can submit it.”

His dad read over the form, then signed it, nodding approvingly. “This is good, Kurt. You need something like this. You took care of all this on your own?”

He shrugged, reclaiming the form. “Just call me responsible.”

“Yeah, you are.” His dad leaned over and kissed him on the head. “Now help me save this soufflé, or we’re gonna be eating toast for breakfast.”

Kurt got two calls from home that week. The first came after dinner on Tuesday, and it was from his dad.

_“So I had a visit from Blaine today. At the garage?”_

Kurt stopped where he was. “You did?”

_“Yeah. He seemed to think you needed help finding out about, you know. Sex. The way gay guys do it.”_

“Oh, my god,” Kurt muttered. He ran a hand over his sweaty forehead. “No. Dad, I — I’m fine. I don’t need any help.”

_“Because you mentioned that you and Noah, that you guys had maybe already, uh, covered some of that ground—“_

“ _Dad,”_ he said, trying not to get angry. “This is my _private_ life. This—what Blaine did was completely inappropriate. You taught me how to find information and how to ask for help if I need it… and I _don’t need it._ Okay?”

 _“Okay. Yeah.”_ His dad sounded a little relieved and a little affronted. Kurt sighed.

“Look, I want you to know, everything I’ve done —I’m not saying I’ve been perfect, but—Noah was always patient and respectful. He insisted on condoms. He never pushed me, and he made sure he got tested to keep me safe.” He was _not_ going to cry on the phone with his dad, not about _this._ “Anybody else I choose to be sexual with, I’m going to make sure we do the same things. Okay? Does that help?”

 _“Yeah.”_ Now he was sheepish. _“I’m sorry, Kurt. I should have trusted you. Just for the record, I do think Blaine’s heart was in the right place.”_

Kurt gritted his teeth. _Yeah, because he’s the clean-cut rich boy, he gets the benefit of the doubt. Would you have said the same thing about Noah if he’d been the one to come to you to talk about my sex life?_ But he just said, “I think so too, dad, but if he tries this again, would you tell him you’ll talk with me directly?”

 _“I will._ _Take it easy, okay, Kurt?”_

He considered confronting Blaine about the visit, but in the end decided that was just going to make things worse. He wasn’t likely going to be able to convince Blaine he’d done anything wrong, and it would put a rift between them at a time when he was depending on Blaine more than ever. It was getting increasingly hard to have _Blaine_ to be his only source of friendship and support at Dalton.

The second call he got that week was from Finn, while he and Blaine were studying. Finn sounded completely baffled.

“ _Weird stuff going on around here, man. Puck’s going in some, uh, new directions.”_

“What? What happened?”

_“Nothing, really, just… Puck and Lauren. Did you know they joined the celibacy club?”_

“Quinn’s thing?” Kurt began to laugh. “Really? All I can think is he’s trying to provide some _mis_ direction. He told me he’s dating somebody else. Another _boy_.”

 _“Oh.”_ Finn was quiet for a moment. “ _Do you think that’s the right thing to do?”_

“To pretend to be celibate or to date another boy? I have no idea, Finn. Noah gets to make his own decisions.”

_“No, I mean — to actually be celibate. Do you think that would be better than… doing stuff with the wrong person?”_

“This isn’t about Noah, is it?”

_“… No.”_

“You’d have to ask yourself that, then. Does being with Quinn feel wrong?”

_“Yeah. But maybe that’s better than having nobody.”_

Kurt felt his smile freeze on his face as Blaine paused in his homework and looked up at him.

“Maybe?” Kurt allowed. “I’m certainly not going to judge you for it.”

_“No, I think I’m gonna go ahead and judge myself. Talk to you later, Kurt.”_

“What was that about?” Blaine asked curiously.

“Just stupid Glee club drama.” He forced himself to relax. “I guess that’s what you get when you throw a bunch of passionate teenagers together and ask them to express themselves.”

Kurt got a third call the next day, but it wasn’t from home. It was from Chris. Seeing his name appear on the screen made Kurt feel unreasonably cheerful.

“Hi!” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 _“Oh, I don’t know,”_ Chris hummed. _“You might be speaking with the student advisor for admissions to Usdan.”_

“That’s not a thing.” Kurt stopped where he was, right in the middle of the crosswalk, until the car waiting for him honked its horn and he scampered the rest of the way across. “That’s never a thing! You are making that up.”

 _“I swear, I’m not! My friend Trinity and I volunteered to help Bryce look through the first round of student applications and watch audition videos. We sorted applicants into accepted, considered or provisional — that last one pretty much means not in a million years.”_ He dropped his voice to a whisper. _“Guess who’s in the accepted pile.”_

Kurt squealed. It made two boys walking the other direction stare at him, but he didn’t care. “You have to promise me, though, that you didn’t skew the results. I have to know I got in because I deserved it, not because I knew someone.”

Chris tut-tutted at him. _“Girlfriend, you’re gonna have to ditch that nice-boy attitude if you’re going to make it in theater. If somebody hands you an advantage, you grab it and hold on with both hands. But I will say I didn’t review your application until Trinity looked at your audition videos first, and she thought you were adorable.”_

“I’ll take adorable,” Kurt said with excitement. He dug his room key out of his pocket as he hurried up the steps of his dorm. “Now I just have to wait to see if I get any financial aid.”

_“That’s outside my realm of influence. I’ll cross my appendages for you, though. It would be great to have a chance to spend some time with you this summer.”_

Kurt was so distracted by Chris’ news that he didn’t notice Pavarotti resting on the bottom of his cage until he opened the tray to refill his water dish.

“Pavarotti?” he said. He whistled a melody, but it was with a sinking heart. Birds didn't lie down on their sides for an afternoon siesta. He reached for his phone — then stopped.

 _I can’t call Noah about this,_ he told himself, tamping down the panic. _Not this time._ _I have to handle it on my own._

This thought was far more distressing than the actual sadness he felt at losing Pavarotti. When Finn had blown up at him and when his dad had been sick, Noah had been there to help him deal with it. And now… Noah wasn’t there anymore. That boy, the person Noah had been for him, was gone from his life. He was gone, and Kurt was going to have to figure out what life was going to look like now without him. Not just when he had a crisis, but… all the time.

The only way he could think to deal with the grief he was feeling was to sing about it. Thankfully, the Warblers were willing to allow Kurt to co-opt the beginning of their rehearsal to sing “Blackbird,” and even improvised a quiet accompaniment. The whole time he sang, Blaine was staring at him with the strangest expression. Kurt wondered more than once if he should pause the song to check for boogers in his nose or something.

The news of his acceptance into Usdan felt tainted by Pavarotti’s passing, but for the rest of the week Kurt was able to distract himself by planning an elaborate funeral for the tiny bird. Blaine came over one afternoon as he was gluing paper jewels to a cigar box.

“What are you doing?” Blaine asked.

“Decorating Pavarotti's casket.”

“Well, finish up. I have the perfect song for our number, and we should practice.”

Kurt wished Blaine would just leave him alone to mourn in peace, but he couldn’t exactly say that to him, especially not when Blaine had announced that Kurt would be singing a duet with him at Regionals. Kurt supposed it had been meant to be a sympathy gift, but at the moment it felt more like an imposition.

“Why did you _pick_ me to sing that song with?” he asked, trying not to sound irritated. _You could have asked me first._

Blaine bit his lip. “Kurt... there is a moment when you say to yourself, _oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever.”_ He gazed into Kurt’s face with a hopeful, shining expression. “Watching you do Blackbird this week, that was a moment for me. About you.”

Kurt blinked at him. Blaine couldn’t possibly think that Kurt was in any kind of a mood to hear romantic epiphanies, not at this moment. Couldn’t Blaine tell he was upset? _Not everything is about you,_ he wanted to snap, but Blaine was going on.

“You move me, Kurt.” He shrugged. “And this duet would just be an excuse to spend more time with you.”

Kurt felt outrage consume whatever response he had been about to make as Blaine leaned over and kissed him. He wasn’t even _pretending_ the decision had been about Kurt’s talent. Blaine just wanted to make out with him. Then he heard Chris’ advice ring in his head: _If somebody hands you an advantage, you grab it and hold on with both hands._

After a moment, Blaine sat back, looking somewhat abashed. “Um,” he said. “We should… we should practice.”

“I thought we were,” Kurt murmured. _Rehearsing for the theater of life._

Kurt didn’t object when he bent in for another kiss. If this was the way it was going to be, Kurt might as well face that now. He supposed trading kisses for a solo wasn’t the worst bargain in the world.

Even after the Warblers lost, Kurt got a lot of compliments on his solo at Regionals. Several of the New Directions stopped by their dressing room afterwards to congratulate him, including Mr. Schue and Michael.

Finn stayed the longest. “How’d it feel to be in the spotlight?” he asked.

“Not so different from singing with Andrea in _Oklahoma.”_

“Really? It wasn’t so different?” Finn raised an eyebrow. “That’s not what I expected to hear. And ‘Candles?’ Kind of a harsh song choice.”  

“Blaine picked it. I thought it was a nice change for the Warblers, though “Raise Your Glass” was a stronger number.”

“Well, I’ll tell you that Puck thought _you_ picked it, as a message from you. He was crying starting at the first chorus, and he didn’t even try to hide it. You might want to tell him that wasn’t what you meant.”

Kurt drew closer to Finn and dropped his voice, letting the other performers mill around them. “Look, I am not about to tiptoe around his feelings, okay? He can interpret my songs, and everything else, however he wants. And he knows me well enough by now: if I have something I want to say, I’m going to tell him to his face. I’m not going to send him a — a secret message in code.”

“Whatever, Kurt. I’m just telling you, it got to him.” Finn shrugged. “I thought you were really good.”

“Thank you. And congratulations on the win.” He grabbed Finn’s arm before he could walk away. “I stood up and cheered. For all of you. You can tell him that.”

Finn smiled. “Will do, little brother.”

True to form, Blaine didn’t seem to care much about whether or not they’d won the competition. “We got each other out of this,” he said. “That beats some lousy trophy, don’t you think?”

“I just really wanted to win,” Kurt said.

Blaine sighed. “The truth is, Kurt, it’s going to be hard for you to catch up from where you are. I’ve been performing every summer for three years, and taking private lessons. The Warblers is just one small piece of my larger strategy for success in show business. At this point, without experience and training, you might have to be prepared not to make it in theater.” He took Kurt’s hand, his expression sympathetic. “But winning isn’t everything. Right?”

 _Wrong,_ he growled in his head, but he nodded anyway.

When they got home, he picked up the phone and called Noah. It went to voicemail, but he’d expected that.

“I’m calling to clear up a misconception,” he said, trying to speak calmly. “That song at Regionals was not about you. It wasn’t even one I chose. At the moment, I’m feeling pretty crappy about my future in theater, so if you want an opportunity to make me feel worse, go ahead and call back. I’ll be here, drowning my sorrows in a different tragedy.”

Kurt was already immersed in the first act of the David Tennant version of _Hamlet_ when the phone rang. He paused the DVD and picked it up. “Stand, and unfold yourself,” he commanded.

Noah laughed in surprise. _“Sorry, I'm not Bernardo.”_

“No, caller ID is pretty sure you’re not.”

_“You sound pissed off.”_

“I hate losing.”

 _“It’s just Glee club, Kurt. And today, you were the star. Somehow you managed to get the Garglers to give you a solo.”_ He paused, then added, _“Do I want to know how you did that?”_

“We’ve already established I’m just as unscrupulous as you,” Kurt said. “You can fill in the blanks.”

 _“Way to sell out.”_ Noah sounded grudgingly impressed.

“Yeah, well, if I’m going to get anywhere in this business, I guess I’d better do anything I can. I know my chances kind of suck to begin with, and I’m way behind…”

 _“Kurt,”_ said Noah, his voice soft. _“Would you cut that shit out? You’re totally off base.”_

“Not according to some people.”

_“Some people are idiots. Do you have any idea how the audience responds when you get on stage?”_

He tried not to scowl. “Apparently, I’m adorable.”

_“Yeah, you could say that. I’m not kidding when I tell you you’ve got something. You know I know what I’m talking about, too, so don’t pretend I’m some schmuck who doesn’t know stage presence from his dick. You get yourself out there, people are gonna notice.”_

The smile and the frown warred for territory on his face, but he could feel the smile winning. “Mrs. Wright said the same thing, after _Merchant of Venice.”_

_“Yeah, even if you’re not gonna listen to me, listen to her.”_

He held his breath, then blurted, “You really think I can do it?”

 _“For fuck’s sake, Kurt, you made me blubber like a fucking baby today.”_ He sounded matter-of-fact, but Kurt thought he could hear something else in his voice. _“You need somebody to tell you how great you are? Come back to Lima any time. You know anybody in Glee club would stroke your ego.”_

 _No, I want you to be the one to stroke it,_ he thought, and choked on a laugh at the entirely inappropriate visual image. “I suppose I’m not getting a lot of that at Dalton.”

_“Blaine and the Pips aren’t giving you the love?”_

Kurt gazed out his window at the perfectly manicured garden beside the dorm. “No, it’s feeling more like harsh reality most of the time around here. They’re setting me up for failure and telling me it won’t be so bad at the same time.”

_“Well, I’m gonna tell you to shoot for the fucking moon, Kurt. You told me once if anybody was going to get out of Lima, it was gonna be me, but… I think it’s gonna be you.”_

“We could still do that together.”

When Noah didn’t respond right away, Kurt mentally kicked himself. _Stupid. Stupid._

“I mean,” he added, trying not to sound desperate, “if you’re not seeing anybody then. If what you’re doing now doesn’t work out. Not that I’m saying it won’t.”

Eventually he heard Noah sigh. _“Yeah, well… I guess if I’m telling you to hold on to your dream, I might as well hold on to mine. Even if it feels impossible sometimes.”_

He felt a quivering in his stomach. “Do you… still want that?”

 _“Yeah, Kurt,”_ he said softly. “ _I still want that.”_

“It’s not impossible. Your dream.”

_“I used to think it was.”_

“But not anymore?”

 _“I don’t know. Depends on the day, I guess.”_ He chuckled. The quivering in Kurt’s stomach traveled lower. _“You should see the house. The kitchen’s actually usable. We eat breakfast at the table now.”_

He smiled, trying not to cry. “That’s fantastic, Noah. I’m glad Sarah’s working with you on that.”

_“Yeah, Sarah and Finn and Michael, a couple days a week.”_

Kurt blinked. “Michael’s helping you clean your house?”

_“Yeah, he’s been hanging around with us more. I don’t know if Finn told you, but he got into NYADA next year.”_

“Tell him congratulations.” Kurt felt a sudden rush of homesickness. It was funny how _Michael_ would be the trigger for that.

 _“I think knowing he’s got solid plans for next year that aren’t in Lima is making it a lot easier for him to stop worrying about what other people think. Speaking of plans.”_ He cleared his throat. _“The application deadline for Usdan was a while ago, but I think you can still send it in anyway.”_

“You still want me to go?”

 _“Kurt.”_ He sounded so hurt. _“Would you stop worrying about me? This is your fucking career we’re talking about.”_

“You know I can’t afford it.” He picked up the large manilla envelope that had arrived three days ago, personally addressed from Bryce Coleman, and tried to keep Noah from hearing the smile in his voice.

_“You’re good enough for a scholarship.”_

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed. “I am.”

_“But…?”_

“No buts. I applied two months ago, and I just found out on Wednesday. They gave me a scholarship.”

In the stunned silence, Kurt managed to restrain himself from giggling.

_“You — okay? So what’s the fucking problem?”_

“I didn’t know if I wanted to be there at all if things were going to be weird between us. And, let’s face it, Noah, they’re going to be weird. Tell me there is any way you and I could survive an entire summer together and not be all over each other.” He inhaled, then let it out all at once. “So I thought about it, and my conclusion was, it would be worth a little weird. So I guess the only question is, can _you_ deal with that?”

_“You’re asking me if I can deal with you wanting to be all over me in the one place in the world where I’m completely out? What kind of dumb question is that?”_

Kurt couldn’t tell if Noah was angry or not. He took several deep breaths. “What about your current beau? Wouldn’t he object?”

 _“I don’t know. I think I’d have to talk to him about it.”_ Noah’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. _“But this sounds a little too good to be true, Kurt. You gonna suddenly say ‘Surprise!’ and pull the fucking tablecloth out from under me?”_

“That begs the question, Noah: what are you doing on the table?”

Noah laughed again, but this time it was a lot more relaxed, and Kurt felt like he suddenly had a piece of himself back that had been missing.

_“So what about Blaine?”_

That made Kurt pause, because he hadn’t even given one thought to Blaine, or what he would think about this scenario.

“I think I would need to talk to him, too,” he said.

_“So you guys are together. Yeah, I saw that coming.”_

“Blaine certainly thinks we are.” Now he felt like a total jerk. “Don’t worry about Blaine. I just don’t want to interfere with what you have. Usdan is _your_ summer experience, not mine.”

_“There’s not a whole lot in my life I wouldn’t want to share with you, Kurt.”_

He put a hand over his mouth and held it there until he had his self-control back. “Is that right?”

 _“Other than the really crappy things, yeah. Though I guess you've seen a lot of those, too.”_ He paused. _“I want you to get what you need. I think Bryce has people and resources that would help you with that. So... yeah, I’m willing to deal with a little weird. I mean, you’ve been pushing my boundaries for three fucking years.”_

He let out a slow breath. “Maybe it doesn’t have to all be weird. Can we just keep going with the ordinary? That feels good.”

_“Ordinary. I could try that.”_

“So I got a part in _Twelve Angry Men?”_

_“Not surprised.”_

“The directors cast me as Number Four, which felt maybe a little typecast, but I wasn’t about to complain.”

 _“Yeah, the whole show’s full of stereotypes, but it’s the interactions between them that makes it mean something.”_ Noah was definitely smiling now. _“When’s the performance?”_

“It’s the week before Nationals. Which might have been an issue if we’d made it, but now the rehearsal schedule won’t interfere. I probably won’t be around much on weekends for a while, though. Not that that’ll matter to you, probably…” He bit his lip. “Noah, I’ve been avoiding asking you about your — boyfriend.”

 _“Yeah.”_ He sounded uncomfortable. _“Maybe it would be better if we had some things that were off limits. I don’t ask about Blaine, you don’t ask about him?”_

“Fair enough,” Kurt agreed. He wasn’t going to argue about whether or not it was good to be keeping secrets. “We’re done avoiding one another, though?”

_“Yeah, that kind of sucks every time we do it, but I think I needed it this time. You know, to get used to things being different.”_

It wasn’t at all clear how things _were_ different to Kurt, but he didn’t want to argue with Noah, not when things felt so good. “It was okay,” he said. “We got through it. But I can call you now?”

_“You can call me now.”_

“Thank you for talking with me. I feel a lot better.”

_“That’s good. You’re gonna love Usdan, Kurt.”_

The _I love you_ was right on his tongue. Luckily Noah hung up before he could say it.

Then he sent a text to Chris. _I think you should put a hold on digging for information about Noah’s boyfriend._

_Good, because I haven’t found shit. Are you sure he said he’s really seeing somebody?_

_He said he is. Although he also told me he might not be this summer._

_This summer...??_

_I haven’t finalized things with my dad, but I think I’m coming to Usdan._

_ALL CAPS CHEERING._

Kurt laughed, feeling the tension from his conversation with Noah ease. _I’m just one more competitor for roles, you know._

_Bring it, Kurt. And if you get a lead, I’ll be the first person to give you a hug._

_ _

Kurt showed up for his first rehearsal with both Chris and Noah’s monologue advice scribbled in the margins of his _Twelve Angry Men_ script. But when he sat down in the circle of chairs and looked around at the faces as students began to arrive, he felt a little uneasy. Once they were all there, he decided he had to say something.

“Excuse me, the two boys I read with at callbacks?” Kurt asked the woman director, as politely as he could. “I can’t help but notice they weren’t cast.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

He hesitated, then added, “They were very good. Both of them.”

“We didn’t think they exactly fit with the theme of the show.”

He raised both eyebrows. “The — theme? Are you talking about justice? Prejudice? Racism?”

“Those are some of the themes in the play, yes.”

“And you think we’re going to do a good job of addressing those themes with twelve white jurors?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, the original casting —“ said the male director.

“In _1957,”_ Kurt interrupted. “Today, directors are casting the show with multicultural actors, to better address racial bias and prejudice in our country. I was reading about one in Pasadena… You’re not even attempting to deny this was on purpose?”

Several of the boys sitting in the circle looked uneasy. The two directors glanced at each other, then back to Kurt.

“You’re… Kurt, right?” The woman leafed through the papers on her lap. He nodded. “Juror Four. _Common-sensical, dispassionate, cool-headed and rational, yet stuffy and prim.”_

Kurt shook his head. “Those are the casting notes. That’s not who I am.”

“Kurt,” said the man, with a patronizing smile, “this is Dalton Academy, not California. If you’re not pleased with the way we’re presenting this show, you’re welcome to leave. I’m sure there are plenty of other students who auditioned who’d be more than happy to take your place.”

Chris’ words were still loud in his head: _If somebody hands you an advantage, you grab it and hold on with both hands._ But Kurt found himself standing up anyway. He tucked his chapbook under his arm.

“You go right ahead,” he said, willing his voice not to shake. “I hope people who see your show understand what exactly you’re doing here. Clearly things haven’t changed a lot at Dalton Academy since 1957.”

Kurt didn’t stop walking until he reached his dormitory, but even then he couldn’t sit down. He clutched his phone for several minutes while he paced, brushing aside the angry tears that continued to fall. Finally he called Chris.

“I quit _Twelve Angry Men,”_ he said.

_“Well, that doesn’t sound good. What’s going on?”_

“Apparently I feel more strongly about not compromising my social and political ideals than I do my sexual ones.”

_“Jeez, Kurt, you’re going to have to give me more than that.”_

He explained the situation with Blaine and the solo at Regionals, then described the conversation he’d had with the directors of _Twelve Angry Men._

_“You’re telling me you don’t want to have sex with Blaine, but you’re doing it because he got you a solo?”_

“Maybe. I don’t know. We’re not having sex.” He sighed, trying to relax the tension in his chest. “But I am leading him on. I know I don’t like him the way he likes me.”

_“You think he deserves to know that.”_

“Yes. And I think _I_ deserve to feel good about what I’m doing. That’s more important than getting a role in a play.” The declaration immediately made it easier to breathe. “You said I shouldn’t miss any opportunity to get ahead in theater, but I don’t think I can be that person.”

_“Hey, Kurt, they’re your choices, not mine. Don’t let my depravity rub off on you. And in case you were wondering, I haven’t ever slept with a director to get a role. Probably good, considering I’m not eighteen yet.”_

“All right.” Kurt sighed, sinking down onto his bed. “I guess I’m going to have to talk to Blaine.”

_“You do that, girl. And bravo to you for walking out on that racist piece of shit director.”_

He smiled. “You don’t think I was overreacting?”

_“I bet you weren’t the only one who wanted to leave, but you were the only one brave enough to speak up.”_

Kurt went downstairs and found Blaine at dinner. He didn’t bother to sit, but instead took Blaine’s hand and pulled him into the empty lounge. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

“Of course. How did rehearsal go?”

“I’ll tell you about that later. This is about you and me.”

He watched Blaine’s face contract with concern. “Is something wrong?”

“I need to be… clear. About how I feel. I don’t think I’ve been very honest with you, and I like you too much to take advantage of you.” He reached for Blaine’s hands. “You and I, we’ve gotten close. But you know I still have feelings for Noah.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious.” Blaine’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I want you to understand, this, what we’re doing… I don’t know if I feel that way about you.”

“Kurt, what way are you supposed to be feeling?” Blaine shook his head. “You said you like me. Are you attracted to me?”

“Well… yes.”

“Okay. That’s about all we need right now, isn’t it? I’m only sixteen. I’m not looking for true love.” He tugged Kurt closer and kissed him. “It’s not a contest about feeling _enough_. I’m sorry you miss Noah, but there’s not much I can do about that. I think I’ll concentrate on enjoying what we have. Okay?”

Kurt nodded, feeling bemused. “I guess… I thought you would be mad at me.”

“I’d rather you not do anything you don’t want to do.” He waited for Kurt to nod. “Well, then, I promise the same thing. You don’t have to pretend to feel anything you don’t feel.” He rested a hand on Kurt’s chest and raised an eyebrow. “Can I talk you into a rehearsal after we eat?”

He gave him a tentative smile. “Would that be a rehearsal involving singing or kissing?”

“Do I have to choose?” teased Blaine. “Come on. My dinner’s getting cold.”

His dad was surprised when Kurt asked to come home that weekend, but when Kurt explained what had happened at his first play rehearsal, he was completely supportive.

“ _You can still do the summer musical at the Encore,”_ his dad said. _“Finn said Mrs. Wright is doing something about… George Washington in the park?”_

 _“Sunday in the Park with George!”_ he heard Finn call in the background.

_“Yeah, that.”_

Kurt smiled. “I think I might have an alternative to another summer in Lima. I got a financial aid package to Usdan, the program on Long Island? It’s not a hundred percent paid for, but —“

 _“Don’t say another word, Kurt,”_ said his dad firmly. _“You’re going. That is terrific. Here, tell Carole what you told me.”_ ’

He had to repeat it twice more, for Carole and also for Finn, who paused to say it again to someone else.

“ _Michael says congratulations,”_ Finn said, sounding a little embarrassed.

“You tell him the same from me, about NYADA,” said Kurt. “Any news about Michael I should be aware of?”

_“Uh, no? No change, anyway.”_

Kurt thought Finn definitely was anxious about something, but he didn’t press for details in front of Michael.

While waiting for the bus that week, he was approached by a boy who looked familiar. “Hey, you were that guy who got the part in _Twelve Angry Men_ and walked out? _”_

“That’s me,” said Kurt.

“You didn’t have to go and make such a big deal about it.”

Kurt stared at him. “Uh, _yes._ I did.”

“It’s bullshit. They’re holding up rehearsals for another whole week while they cast the two of you all over again.”

“The… the two of us?”

He smiled as the boy huffed. “Yeah, the guy who was cast as Juror Twelve, he left too. I figured the two of you knew each other.”

“No, that was entirely independent thinking. You should try it some time.”

The boy walked away, muttering, but Kurt’s smile remained with him for the rest of the day. He wished he remembered who Juror Twelve had been.

The first thing Kurt did when he got to Lima on Friday evening was to drive to Noah’s. The yard was in no better shape than it had been the last time he’d been there, but it looked like some of the worst patches of peeling paint had been scraped off the front of the house.

Mrs. Puckerman was obviously surprised to see him, but she just nodded cordially. “Kurt. How have you been?”

“I’m doing well, thank you. Is Noah here?”

“He’s visiting someone in Dayton.”

From her expression, she didn’t look happy about this. Kurt instantly regretted telling Chris to stop his investigation, but he couldn’t think of a way to interrogate Noah’s _mother_ about his secret current boyfriend.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” was all he could think to ask.

“Probably not until late. Do you want me to tell him you were here?”

“Oh,” said Kurt, startled, “um — yes. Thank you.”

She cocked her head. “Are you part of this nose intervention thing Noah is planning for Rachel Berry?”

He had to think very hard if that sentence made any sense before finally giving up and shaking his head. She sighed.

“I swear, when I was a girl, half of our synagogue got nose jobs. She’s a beautiful girl. I don’t know why she would want one.”

“Rachel Berry is getting a _nose job?”_

“Not if Noah has anything to say about it.” Mrs. Puckerman grinned, and it was so much the spitting image of Sarah that Kurt had to muffle a laugh. “I’ll tell him you came by, Kurt.”

“Thanks.” He wanted to offer to come inside and wait, or watch _CSI:NY_ with Sarah, or even to peek inside the music room and see if anything had been moved, but he sternly told himself that he didn’t have access to Noah’s life like he once had. He would need to ask permission, and take small steps.

When he got to his house, Finn met him at the door. Michael didn’t seem to be inside.  

“Rachel Berry is getting a nose job?” Kurt asked, without even saying hello.

Finn hid himself behind his hand. “I didn’t mean to break her nose,” he moaned. “I just — my arm got in the way of her face. I didn’t think noses were so _fragile.”_

“Wait, so this is a repair, not a cosmetic surgery?” He followed Finn into the dining room, then stopped when he saw his dad and Carole sitting there at the table, waiting for him. “... What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you about Rachel later,” said Finn, sitting down next to Carole. “There’s, uh, something else we have to talk to you about.”

“Kurt, I’m gonna be honest,” said his dad. “When we sent you to Dalton, I wasn’t thinking about much except _my son is in danger._ I knew you weren’t crazy about the idea of going, but I wasn’t going to let you say no, because I didn’t want you to be the only one at your school taking the heat for Dave Karofsky and the other idiots messing with you every day.” He looked over at Finn. “But Finn tells me that’s not how it’s going to be anymore.”

“Karofsky came to Glee club today,” Finn said. “He made this big apology to all of us, and especially to you. I don’t know if I believe him or not, but he and Santana are starting an anti-bullying club, and…”

“Dave and _Santana?”_

“I know, that was everybody else's reaction, too. But Figgins is backing them up. They’re patrolling the halls, keeping kids safe. They even have these weird red uniforms.” He shrugged uneasily.

“You think it’s actually changing?” Kurt tried not to sound too excited.

“I set up an appointment with Figgins on Monday,” said his dad. “We’re gonna talk to Paul and Dave again. I want to get some clear idea of what kids at your school can expect. And then…” He looked at Carole.

“We wanted to know what _you_ want to do,” she said.

“What I want to do?” Kurt repeated. “You mean… if I want to come back?”

“Well, that’s a lot of movement in one year. You and Blaine seem to be getting along, and you have things you're doing — well, I guess the play didn’t go so well…”

“I’ve actually been thinking about that too,” he said. He spoke slowly, trying to at least _appear_ rational, although his stomach was tight with anticipation. “I thought being at Dalton would give me opportunities I didn’t have at McKinley, but it turned out it just revealed more roadblocks. And at the same time, moving there took away my support system. I didn’t even know how much I would miss them until… they were gone.” He held his wobbling chin steady, and sighed. “I don’t think I needed a new school. What I need is people around me who believe in me. My family. That would be you, and Glee club.”

“And Noah?” said Carole.

Kurt shifted in his seat. “He’s…. I don’t know. I mean, I miss him, of course.”

“He misses you too,” said Finn. “Even if he wouldn’t say it.”

“Well, I think we’re over at least some of the hurdles in the way of being friends again. He’s been seeing somebody else, and I’ve got Blaine… even if he is making inappropriate visits to my father at his garage...”

His dad grinned. “Next time I’ll get him talking about football.”

“My point is,” Kurt said loudly, “I’m not alone. Even if nobody else at school is gay.”

“Well,” said Finn, and shrugged. Carole smiled and took his hand.

“Half gay?” Kurt offered.

“I believe the term is _bisexual,”_ said his dad. He reached out and poked Kurt in the ribs.

Kurt gaped at his dad, then swiveled his gaze around to Finn, who sighed.

“We’re doing this assignment for Glee,” he explained. “Everybody’s supposed to find the thing they like least about themselves and, you know. Celebrate it. By making a t-shirt about it and wearing it.”

“You’re — coming out on a t-shirt?”

“Well, no.” Finn shook his head. “As it turns out, I kind of like that part of me? So I, uh. I picked dancing instead. I’m still a crappy dancer.” He grinned. “ _And_ bisexual. Which wouldn’t fit on a t-shirt, so I just… told everybody.”

“You did? You — you did!” Kurt stared at Finn as he nodded, still smiling. Kurt got up from his chair and flung his arms around Finn, who registered a mild protest. Then he paused. “But nobody texted me or called me or anything?”

“Yeah, well, it turns out they already figured it out. I guess I’m pretty bad at hiding stuff.” He didn’t look at all bothered.

“And you and Michael…?”

“Still just friends. He’s going to college in New York next year.”

“But you’re not the only one anymore, Kurt,” said his dad. “So, while I promise not to get all worried if we get another slew of crank calls--”

“One 'Your son’s a fag' hardly constitutes a slew, dad.”

“--I won’t stand for it, either.” He stared meaningfully at Finn. “About either of my sons.”

Carole made an _awww_ noise, but the grin on Finn’s face could have spoken for itself. He nodded. “If anything like that happens, I’ll tell you.”

“So. Yeah.” His dad looked expectantly at Kurt. “Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind. But I want to hear a guarantee from your principal before we re-register you.”

After another round of hugs, his dad let him escape downstairs with Finn, who clarified the story about Rachel breaking her nose.

“She thinks the answer is to take Quinn’s nose,” he concluded, “even though _her_ nose was built by a doctor too? I don’t get it. Anyway, Puck has this idea that he can convince her not to go through with it by… dancing? He called it a Barbra Streisand flash mob.”

“Oh my god. That is _brilliant.”_ Kurt dug his phone out of his pocket. “But there is no way I am letting him do _anything_ having to do with Barbra without me.”

Finn watched him in clear amusement. “I’m glad _you_ understand what he’s doing.”

Before dialing, he had to pause to hug Finn again, who definitely looked like he’d had enough with the hugs. “You’re going to help, too.”

He froze. “Wait, I’m going to dance? But I already did the dancing assignment with Mike Chang!”

Noah picked up on the second ring. _“Hey, I’m on the highway. Can I call you in, like, a half hour?”_

“Just come over. I’m at home. I have so much news. And when were you going to tell me about the Barbravention?”

_“The — what kind of stupid name is that? Who told you?”_

“Your mother.”

Noah swore. _“Since when are you talking to my Ma?”_

“And Finn. Noah, I am _going_ to help with this.”

_“You’re gonna skip school and come to the mall in Lima? Yeah, right, not for something stupid.”_

“Barbra is never stupid!” He flopped back onto his bed, smiling helplessly at the ceiling. “I don’t have to skip. I’ll already be at McKinley on Monday morning for another Hummel/Karofsky family convo. This time, I’m walking in there with a list of demands.”

_“Wait... what’s going on?”_

“Nothing, yet.” He took a breath. “But if all goes well, I am coming back to McKinley.”

There was a long pause, and then Noah said, his voice flat, _“Is this because of Santana’s lame-ass Bullywhips club?”_

“Partly.” He listened to Noah fuming in silence. “I thought you’d be happy about this.”

_“Happy? You really think anything’s gonna be different?”_

“I have no idea what’s going on in Dave’s head, but I’m willing to take advantage of it if it means kids at McKinley will be protected. And if I can come back.”

_“Why would you even want to?”_

Noah sounded genuinely confused. Kurt felt like laughing, but Noah was clearly not in a mood to hear it. “Because all the reasons I wanted to leave to begin with were wrong. Yes, I was safe, but I was also lonely. Blaine’s great, but… he’s not my family.”

_“You do have a pretty great family.”_

“Yes, I do,” said Kurt softly. _And you’re part of it._

_“And you really think your family’s gonna stand up and protect you?”_

“That’s what I’m hoping, anyway?”

 _“Kurt, families don’t always do that.”_ He thought Noah might be on the edge of panic. _“Sometimes — sometimes they leave.”_

“And sometimes, they come through for you at exactly the right moment. Maybe I just need to give them a chance.”

_“... I’m gonna get going, Kurt. I’ll talk to you later.”_

Finn watched him set the phone down. “That didn’t sound so good.”

“I think it was as good as it’s going to get, at least for now.” Kurt let out a big sigh. Then he smiled at Finn. “But if I’m going to pull this off, I have a lot of work to do.”

_ _

[ _https://youtu.be/aBl5_Q8bO4k_ ](https://youtu.be/aBl5_Q8bO4k)

_We’re flying through the night_   
_Way up high  
The view from here is getting better with you by my side_

_\- We The Kings, “Check Yes Juliet”_


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quoting in this chapter from 2x20 Prom Queen and 2x22 New York. 
> 
> I want to reassure you that, although this story is patterned on and contains themes of a tragedy, I am far too much of a sap to end it on a truly sad note. Also, there will be another in the series. Thank you so much for reading. 
> 
> -amy

_Kurt Hummel: Okay, I have several options here. I could tell everyone the truth about you...  
_ _Dave Karofsky: Dude, I said I'm sorry. You said you wouldn't do that!  
_ _Kurt Hummel: Hold on. Or I can return here and marvel with pride at your new anti-bullying movement, which I fully believe in, and further demand that you and I start a chapter of PFLAG here at William McKinley. Parents, Family and Friends of Lesbians and Gays. You need to be educated, David. You may not have to come out, but you need to be educated.  
_ _Dave Karofsky: Oh, man, just kill me now.  
_ _Burt Hummel (watching them through the window): Just keep an eye on your brother.  
_ _Finn Hudson: One step ahead of you._

_\- Glee 2x18, “Born This Way”_

Kurt wiped his eyes and waved as the last of the Warblers climbed the concrete steps back to the parking lot.

“I can’t believe you got them all to come out here to say goodbye to me,” he said to Mercedes. She beamed.

“It was all Blaine’s idea. He knows you commemorate everything with a song.”

“That was the sweetest thing. I’m going to have to thank him.”

She watched Kurt’s eyes follow Noah as he glared at them from across the courtyard, and her smile slipped. “Yeah, I’m sorry he wasn’t here. He’s kind of been in a bad mood for a while.”

“I know,” said Kurt. ”I’m not sure what’s going on with him, but… I’m not going to worry about it right now.”

“All right.” Finn beckoned him to sit down. “It’s lunchtime, and we have a meeting.”

He looked up at Finn in confusion. “What kind of meeting?”

Finn unzipped his backpack and pulled out a piece of rainbow-colored pasteboard. He propped it up with a little stand and set it on the table. Then he gestured. Looking about as glum as Kurt had ever seen him, Dave Karofsky appeared out of the crowd, wearing a red beret and a satin jacket matching Santana’s. With a sullen sigh, he sat down beside her. She nudged him.

“Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays,” he muttered. Santana cleared her throat, and he straightened up, glancing at Kurt. “We’re here to be supportive.”

“And to help plan,” said Quinn. “As your future King and Queen —“

“Ahem,” Santana interrupted, “if anybody’s speaking as your future queen, it should be me.”

“We want to know what we can do to help make things more accepting here,” Quinn went on. “You came back for us, Kurt. We don’t want to let you down.”

Kurt looked up at Finn. “Did you organize this? For me?”

“Well, it’s for me, too,” said Finn. “And, um. Everyone who isn’t out yet.”

Nobody looked at Dave or Santana, but Quinn smiled and took Finn’s hand.

“Maybe we can get _certain other_ people to join,” she said to Kurt.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he said. “But this is amazing, everyone. Really.”

“We haven’t even done anything,” said Dave.

“Are you kidding?” Kurt shook his head. “You showed up. That’s huge, all by itself. And all the other gay kids walking by right now, they’re seeing us do this: sitting together, getting along, and not getting slushied or yelled at.”

Dave scowled. “What other gay kids?”

“Please. Even if we’re going with a conservative 5%, that still means at least a couple dozen more at this school. Trust me, they’re watching, and they’re not going to forget this. Maybe next time we’ll have more people.”

“Maybe you could move down.” They all turned to see Michael grinning at them at the end of the table, along with Scott and Son Mi. “Come on, make room.”

“Hey,” said Finn. His face broke out in the sappiest, most completely obvious smile. “You came.”

Dave rolled his eyes and muttered to himself under his breath, but he scooted down to the end of the table to let the others sit down.

“Sure I did.” Michael nodded at Kurt. “Welcome back, man. We missed you. We’re on for your number in Glee club today, right?”

“ _As If We Never Said Goodbye,”_ said Kurt, nodding back.

Dave’s eyebrows went way up. “Seriously, do you guys _ever_ stop singing?”

There was a collective chorus of _no,_ followed by laughter.

Kurt smiled. “Just be glad we haven’t picked a theme song for _this_ club yet. All in favor of Donna Summer?”

Nobody in Glee club seemed willing to settle down enough to rehearse after Kurt’s song, so Mr. Schue let them go early. Kurt fielded hugs and kind words from everyone for as long as he could, while Noah glowered in the corner.

“You might as well come down here,” Kurt called to him, when the room was almost empty. “I even got a welcome-back hug from Brad. You’re going to have to get over yourself at some point.”

Noah watched him warily as he made his way down the risers, his hands jammed in his pockets. “Why exactly do you think I’m avoiding you?”

“It doesn’t matter why… Puck.”

He stopped short on the last riser, staring down at Kurt. “What, is that meant to be some kind of insult?”

“I thought it was your name. Maybe I’m trying to fit in.” He grinned at the horrified look on Noah’s face. “Don’t you want me to treat you like everybody else?”

Noah’s face closed into a neutral expression. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“Well, in keeping with our attempt to do ordinary things, I wanted to ask you about the Barbravention. Is it okay if I help?”

“I told you it was,” Noah snapped.

“All right,” Kurt said calmly. “I’m assuming you’ve got the choreography handled. Would you tell me your plan, and then I can tell you my ideas about what I might do to help?”

Noah frowned, but he nodded. “Okay… yeah. So Michael got most of the volunteers from his dance class. This group of twelve will start at the top of the escalator...”

The more they talked, the more Noah settled down, although he never quite relaxed entirely. Kurt watched him describe the steps of the dance routine with his body, demonstrating each part with unconscious grace.

Eventually, he paused, watching Kurt closely. “You can tell me it sucks, you know.”

“Why would do that? It’s great. Besides, I’m not a trained dancer. You’re the one who’s taken classes.”

“I’m not all that good. I got Michael and Brittany to handle the floor routines.” He was still looking at him in apparent confusion.

“N- Puck,” he said, and shook his head. “Sorry, that’s going to take some time. I’m thrilled to be back. This—“ He gestured at the empty choir room around them. “—is a big part of why. I _missed_ this kind of thing. Nobody does this at Dalton, or at least they don’t do it with me. They do things by the book. I’d prefer to rewrite the book. And possibly Bedazzle it.”

Noah didn’t smile, but at least he wasn’t scowling anymore. “That’s what's going to get you noticed.”

“But that’s not why I do it,” he said. “Don’t you understand? I’m not theatrical because I want people to pay attention to me. I’m that way because it makes me feel like myself.” He cocked his head. “I couldn’t be myself at Dalton, no matter how safe I was.”

“Yeah, but at least I could fucking sleep at night,” Noah said.

Kurt felt a thrill inside. He took a long breath and smiled, trying to stay calm. “I appreciate that you're concerned about that. I… I can’t even tell you how much. But at some point we’re both going to have to deal with the world as it is. The world’s not safe. Yes, maybe I’ll move to a city where things are easier, but there’s always going to be somebody who disagrees with _something_ I do or say. If there isn't, I’m clearly not doing it loudly enough.” He watched Noah chewing on his lip. “You think you can deal with that level of boundary-pushing?”

Noah blew out a breath. “Fuck.”

“Don’t tell me you forgot what a diva I am.”

“No,” he growled, “but I forgot how hard it was to keep my fucking hands off you when you do it.”

The thrill accelerated into a wave of full-fledged arousal. He stepped back, rocked by the force of it, and let his eyes close for a moment. _“That’s_ why you’ve been avoiding me today?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess I —” He shook his head, smiling. “It’s easy for me to forget you see me that way.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “I promise, Kurt, it’s been a broken record in my head, ever since you walked into that courtyard at lunch. _Stop checking him out. You’re not gonna treat him like that. Stop looking at his ass.”_

Kurt burst out laughing, hiding his face beneath his hand. “Um… I’m not offended.”

“No? At this point I’m just trying not to get arrested for indecent behavior.” He ran his eyes over Kurt once, from head to toe, then groaned, turning away. “Okay, look… I’ll bring Rachel to the mall tomorrow after school and get the audio equipment ready. You meet everybody at the escalators on the second floor, across from Famous Footwear.”

“Puck,” said Kurt. “Thanks. You always make me feel good, about myself. When we do things like this, and… when you look at me like that, too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Noah replied, his voice sour. “But it makes me feel like an asshole.”

Kurt tried not to let the good feelings curdle in his stomach as Noah brushed past him out the door.

Kurt arrived a little early at the auditorium on Friday to find Michael and Scott setting up for the Lady Gaga performance. He watched them unpack the sound equipment as he buttoned up his shirt to cover the words _LIKES BOYS._

“You guys could have had shirts, too,” he said.

Scott gave him a look. “Since when would we _choose_ to be part of your Glee club drama?”

“Thanks, Kurt,” said Michael, “but we don’t feel left out. You want to help with the sound check?”

When Michael came up to the stage to plug in the wireless microphone, however, he paused beside Kurt, his face turned away from Scott.

“ _Your_ shirt,” he said quietly. “I thought you were supposed to pick something you struggle to accept. Something you were ashamed of.”

“I used to be ashamed of it,” he said. “Sometimes I still am.”

Michael gave him a strange look. “You never act like it.”

“If I showed the world how I felt all the time, I’d be crying half the time and yelling the other half. That’s not exactly productive, is it?”

He watched Michael’s face go through a series of complicated expressions as he clipped the mic on Kurt’s collar.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Say something.”

Kurt thought for a moment, then in his best snooty Juror Four voice, he began. “Now suppose we take these facts one at a time. One. The boy admitted going out of his house at eight o’clock on the night of the murder after being hit several times by his father…”

He continued the monologue while Michael adjusted the settings on the soundboard. He didn’t appear to be listening at all to what Kurt was saying.

“Seven. The boy arrived home. Ladies and gentlemen, this case is based on a reasonable and logical progression of facts. Let’s keep it there.”

Michael gave him a thumbs up. “Sounds good. That’s from _Twelve Angry Men,_ right? Finn had me watch it.”

“Yes, well, I figured even if I’m not going to get to perform it, I wouldn’t let it go to waste.”

“You’ll do it another time.” He paused beside the stage. “You know, most of my friends are like that. They just want the facts, the logical stuff. I think they have the idea that emotions are for wimps and losers.”

“Finn’s not like that,” said Kurt. Michael smiled and shook his head.

“No. He’s not. I think that’s why I like him so much.”

“He likes you too, you know. A lot.”

“Dude,” called Scott from the pit, sounding aggravated, “you do know the microphone’s still on, right?”

Kurt blushed, reaching to unclip the mic and hand it back to Michael. “Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s all right,” Michael said. He was still smiling. “I mean, I didn’t make a big announcement or anything, but… my friends mostly know about me by now.”

“I’m glad it hasn’t caused you any trouble.”

He must have sounded less than pleased, because Michael reached up on the stage and touched Kurt’s shoe. He shook his head.

“It hasn’t, but only because you came out first. And then you got Finn to come out. The rest of us… it’s not like we’re not grateful for that.”

“Words matter,” Kurt said firmly. “Speaking up, putting a name to what you are and what you’re doing. It makes a difference. Even if you’re scared. I’m scared all the time.”

Michael nodded. “I’m doing my best.”

“I appreciate that. And I’m sorry I judged you before. I was wrong about you being a jerk, and I’m glad I was.”

“Thanks, Kurt.” He picked up his guitar, resting on its stand, and touched the tuning knobs. “Did you hear about the song Finn did in Glee with Mike Chang?” He sang a few bars of “I Gotta Be Me.”

_I want to live, not merely survive_   
_And I won't give up this dream_   
_Of life that keeps me alive_   
_I gotta be me, I gotta be me  
The dream that I see makes me what I am_

“Finn told me he danced with Mike, but not which song he did,” said Kurt. “That's a great choice. I’m sorry I missed the performance.”

“He asked me for help on the choreography again. I don’t think he’ll ever be a _good_ dancer, but… I think he had fun doing it.” He smiled, and now Kurt could see the sadness in it. “Really, it was just another excuse to spend time with him.”

“Yeah?” Kurt sat down on the edge of the stage, letting his feet dangle.

“Yeah. I’ll probably do the summer musical at the _Encore_ for the same reason. Kind of pathetic, huh?”

“I don’t think so. If that’s all you can handle, I think Finn’s glad to be your friend? But I think he’d be even happier with more.”

“I don’t know, Kurt,” said Michael soberly. “I spent a lot of time pressuring him after — you know, the night of your dad’s wedding. And he said no a lot, but he said yes sometimes, and… it was confusing. I didn’t know if he wanted me to talk him into it or not. And then one day he just got very serious with me and told me to stop asking.”

“And you did.”

“Well, yeah.”

“And you’ve been a perfect gentleman ever since.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess. Even when he flirted with me. Which _sucked,_ I’ll tell you right now. But I wanted him to know I was listening.”

Kurt touched Michael’s shoulder. “This is why you’re not a jerk.”

“Yeah, well.” He looked glum. “I’m not sure when the statute of limitations on previous behavior runs out.”

“When you ask him, very respectfully, if he would be willing to give you another chance, and he says yes.”

Michael’s eyes widened. “Oh. Uh… all right. I’ll think about it.” As Kurt climbed to his feet, he added, “Noah Puckerman.”

“What about him?”

“There _was_ something going on between the two of you. Wasn’t there?”

“I wouldn’t tell you even if there were, Michael. You’d be welcome to ask him the same thing, and I bet you’d get the same answer.”

Kurt waited in the wings until Noah arrived, talking with Lauren. When he caught him in a moment alone, he quickly walked up to him, holding out a hand to stop him where he was.

“You’re not an asshole,” Kurt told him. “No matter what you’re thinking about me. Because you don’t act on it.” He took a deep breath. “Even when I give you mixed messages.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “You mean like when you called me to have phone sex after you broke up with me?”

“I think that would qualify as a mixed message,” he agreed. “I’m sorry.” He pointed at Noah’s _I’M WITH STUPID_ shirt with the arrow pointing down. “You’re not that person anymore.”

“Only I know what it’s like in my head, Kurt. Trust me, I still think with my dick most of the time.”

Kurt tried to let that statement roll off him, to allow the images that immediately filtered through his brain pass without comment. But Noah must have caught his reaction to some of them, because his eyes darkened and he leaned in closer.

“It’s just you, Kurt,” Noah murmured. “I’m not this guy around anybody else anymore. Just you. But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Would you rather I went back to Dalton?”

“No fucking way,” he said immediately. Kurt nodded, smiling.

“Okay. Then… I’ll say yes to Usdan this summer.”

The way Noah’s eyes lit up, it was impossible not to smile back, but Kurt made sure he maintained a respectful distance. _No more mixed messages,_ he told himself. _I’m with Blaine, and he’s with… someone else._

_ _

Kurt felt incredibly relieved to be back at McKinley. It was true that the classes were easier, but that wasn’t the reason. Everyone seemed pleased to see him, even those people he had seldom spoken to before he’d left. At Dalton, most people had ignored him, busy with their own friendships and lives. To be surrounded again with familiar people and things was more of a comfort than he’d expected.

In British lit, he was glad to discover they hadn’t yet finished with _Hamlet._ They weren’t acting it out the way they had done with _The Merchant of Venice,_ but any time the class needed a reference to something that happened in the play, they would just turn to Noah.  If Celeste said, “That one scene about getting thee to a nunnery, what happened there?” Noah would obligingly recite the conversation between Hamlet and Ophelia from Act III, scene I, playing both characters with conviction. It was better than reading the text, because the way Noah performed it, it cleared up a lot of the difficulties with the language. It allowed everyone to have far better in-depth discussions about the politics and motivation of the characters.

“I wish I could keep you around next year, Noah,” Mr. Wright said one day after class. “You make it so much easier to teach Shakespeare to high school students.”

“Hey, chances are I won’t graduate anyway,” he said with a cheerful smile, “so you might get your wish.”

Even the drama that surfaced in Glee when Mr. Schue introduced the “Rumors” album by Fleetwood Mac felt more charming than hurtful.

“Everybody thinks you’re doing Sam,” said Noah, when Kurt sat down beside him in Glee.

“I know they think that,” said Kurt. “And I’m not.”

“Why don’t you just tell them the truth about what’s happening, then?”

“Because that would involved telling other people’s secrets, and that’s not something I do. It has nothing to do with sex. That’s all people need to know.”

Noah smirked. “Easier just to tell lies always. Then nobody knows whether you’re messing with them or not.”

“Except with me.”

His smirk faded, and he shrugged. “Yeah, well. I’ve never been good at hiding things from you.”

Kurt considered that. “There was this one thing you never shared with me. When Mrs. Wright made you keep a journal that summer before ninth grade, as a substitute for all the work you didn’t do in eighth grade lit & comp…?”

Noah groaned. “I can’t believe you still want to see that.”

“I’m insatiably curious. You know I wouldn’t judge you for your writing.”

“Yeah, but... you haven’t read the stuff I wrote in there. Some of it’s pretty embarrassing.”

“Okay, you are not helping your case at all. Just let me read it and I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Just tell me what’s really going on with you and Sam,” Noah shot back.

“It’s not the same thing, Puck!” Kurt said, loud enough for the others around them to turn and stare. He dropped his voice. “I can’t tell you.”

Noah crossed his arms. “So, you don’t get to see my journal.”

As much as people were giving him grief about Sam, it wasn’t one tenth as bad as the drama going on about Finn, Rachel and Quinn. Kurt enjoyed [Finn and Quinn’s performance of “I Don’t Wanna Know](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pShm2MQZlHM)”  and Finn and Rachel’s rendition of “Go Your Own Way,” but he was mostly paying attention to Michael, stoically playing guitar for both of them. He couldn’t help but wonder how it was all affecting him.

After Sam was pressured into telling the truth about his dad losing his job, though, Noah was the one to approach Kurt at his locker.

“I get why you didn’t tell me now,” Noah said. “That wasn’t cool of me to try to make you.” He handed Kurt a worn brown notebook. “Here.”

“Is this your —?”

Noah put up both hands. “Just don’t talk to me about it. I don’t want to know what you think.”

“I won’t say a word.” He rested a hand briefly on Noah’s arm. “Thank you.”

“Whatever. I don’t know what you expect to find in there. It’s just stuff that was in my head. I never showed it to Wright. Why do you even want to see it?”

Kurt didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure how to convey, to anyone, how he felt about those first few months when he’d gotten to know Noah. It had felt a little like being given an ordinary package covered in knots of string, and then, after spending hours and hours picking out the knots, discovering the most wonderful present inside. Every little bit of Noah was precious to him. Now the two of them hardly even spoke at all anymore. This would be a piece of the puzzle that was Noah, something to pore over and treasure.

 _Did you ever figure out who he was dating?_ Chris asked him one night.

_Well, I know he lives in Dayton. Puck goes down to see him about once a week, usually on the weekend, but sometimes after school. I don’t know his name but his mom knows about him, or at least that he exists, and she doesn’t like him at all._

_I don’t know why you aren’t doing that thing, girlfriend. He was fine when he was fifteen. I can only imagine what he’s like now._

_Better than fine,_ Kurt agreed. _But Noah’s made it clear he’s taken, at least until this summer._

_I just don’t get it. Why wait? I mean, why is it cheating now but it won’t be this summer?_

Kurt didn’t feel willing to entertain that question, especially considering he hadn’t yet talked to Blaine about the idea, either. He told himself several times he’d bring it up, but so far, every opportunity he’d had, he’d chickened out.

At least Blaine had agreed to go to junior prom with him, so he would have someone to distract him from Noah in a tuxedo. He had managed to grab one of Noah’s prom king campaign posters and stash it in the back of his locker as an embarrassing souvenir.

“He’s doing an admirable job of presenting himself as a lovable but dangerous miscreant,” he said to Tina. She was the only friend he had left who wasn’t stressing out about the prom. “I don’t know if that’s enough to help him win, but it was sweet of him to run, for Lauren.”

Blaine, however, was less than excited about prom. He was particularly concerned with Kurt’s kilt-tuxedo. When his dad expressed his disapproval of his outfit, Blaine sided with him.

“I think what he's trying to say is that we just don't want to give anyone a reason to cause any trouble,” said Blaine. Blaine’s own “discreet” tux choice was exactly the kind of thing Kurt would have expected from him. The only time Blaine didn’t perfectly blend into the background was when he was on the stage — which, not coincidentally, were the times when Kurt was most attracted to him.  

Once they got to to the prom, everything seemed okay. It helped that Glee club had a job to do, as the hired entertainment for the evening, although Kurt hadn't rehearsed with them and chose not to ask for a solo. He was able to enjoy Artie, Sam and Noah's carefree performance of “Friday,” but Kurt had to stop and take a break from dancing during Rachel’s rendition of “Jar of Hearts.”

_I know I can't take one more step towards you_   
_'Cause all that's waiting is regret_   
_Don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore  
You lost the love I loved the most…_

“It’s — I’m worried about Michael,” he said, sniffling, when Blaine turned to him in concern. “He’s back there playing in the band and he has to watch Finn dancing with Quinn and Rachel pining for him, and it’s… it’s just sad.”

Blaine smiled, sliding an arm around his waist. “I think Michael can take care of himself. And Finn has more than enough people to keep him busy. Rachel obviously wants to date him, and Quinn is stunning in that dress. There’s someone here for everyone.”

Kurt’s mouth tightened. “Even if it’s a lie.”

It was obvious to him that Finn wasn’t happy, but it didn’t become apparent to everyone else until he started a pointless fight with Jesse St. James. Kurt watched Coach Sylvester drag the two of them out the door, feeling scared and helpless to intervene.

Then he felt a hand tuck into his and give it a squeeze.

“I’ll check on him,” Noah murmured into his ear. “It’ll be okay.”

That was all the contact Kurt had with Noah for a while, but after that, he was aware of every move Noah made. He watched Noah leave the gym and return several minutes later. He stopped to check in with Lauren, then made his way to the stage to talk to Michael, who looked pale and angry. Finally, Michael took the guitar strap off his neck and passed it to Noah, who put it around his own neck as Michael headed out the door.

He conferred with the band briefly before launching into a familiar dance tune:

_<https://youtu.be/4d22rX8Rrzw> (this male cover version even sounds like Noah! -a) _

_I want you to love me like I'm a hot ride_   
_Keep thinking of me doing what you like_   
_So boy forget about the world_   
_Cause it's gonna be me and you tonight_   
_I wanna make your beg for it,  
Then Imma make you swallow your pride_

_Want you to make me feel_   
_Like I'm the only boy in the world_   
_Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love  
Like I'm the only one who knows your heart_

Kurt only managed to keep himself together by throwing himself into dancing. Every time Blaine smiled at him, he smiled back, but it felt forced. When he held Blaine’s hand during the announcement of Dave Karofsky’s election to Prom King, all he could feel was the wrong hand in his.

 _This is a mistake,_ he thought, with a sinking heart. _Blaine said it was enough for me to feel what I felt for him, but it’s not._

His mind was entirely on that when Principal Figgins pulled the name of the Prom Queen winner out of the envelope. When he heard his own name announced, and the entire room fell silent, at first, it didn’t make sense. Then he saw Noah staring at him from the stage, his face suffused with pity and fear. There were a few muted claps and one hoot, but Kurt had no idea if they were supportive or hostile.

“I’m sorry, I can’t —“ he muttered, and pushed past the crowd toward the exit.

“Kurt, stop,” Blaine hissed, but he was already out the door, into the hallway where it was quiet, and nobody would hear him crying.

“Just give us a second,” he heard Blaine say. Then he was behind him. “Come on, Kurt, just… stop. _Stop,_ Kurt.”

“I’ve never been so humiliated,” he sobbed. He scrubbed at his face with one furious hand.

Blaine sighed. “It's just a stupid joke.”

“No, it's not,” Kurt insisted. “All that hate... They were just afraid to say it out loud. So they did it by secret ballot. I'm one big anonymous practical joke.”

“Kurt,” he heard from down the hall. When his eyes cleared, he saw Noah, Michael and Finn standing there together. Noah looked like he was ready to go ballistic on somebody, but Finn had him by the arm. Michael just looked tired.

“This is _not_ fucking okay,” Noah spat at Blaine, who looked a little startled at his vitriol. “You don’t tell him to stop, or tell him it’s _just_ anything. It’s a fucking hate crime.”

“Well, not technically,” Blaine said, but he subsided when he saw Noah’s face. He went to sit on the floor beside the lockers, watching Kurt with anxious eyes.

Noah went right up to Kurt, but when he got there, he paused, hovering beside him. “Babe,” he said, “what do you need?”

Kurt just shook his head, but when he reached out and rested a hand on Noah’s chest, Noah took him in his arms. At the moment, he couldn’t think about Michael or Finn or Blaine or anybody. He just let Noah hold him while he cried.

“I’m so stupid,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I thought that because no one was teasing us or beating us up that no one cared. Like... like some kind of progress had been made. But it's still the same.”

“People are fucking clueless.” Noah dug into his pocket and found a tissue, then used it to wipe Kurt’s face. It was a mark of how upset he was that Kurt didn’t even object. “They have no idea what they’re doing. They think it’s a joke, like your feelings don’t matter. But they do, babe.” His fingers stroked Kurt’s cheek where he’d wiped away the tears. “They do. Even if you think no one cares.”

Kurt stood there in Noah’s arms, feeling the strength of him, his patience and attention, for several long moments. Finally he opened his eyes and nodded. Noah stepped away, still watching him.

“Go,” Kurt said. A whisper was all he could manage. “They need you to play guitar.”

“I’ve got it,” said Michael.

Kurt gave him as much of a smile as he could manage. “You’ve got Finn. Noah can handle the jazz band.”

Noah shook his head with a little smirk. “Still trying to manage everybody. Fucking Kurt Hummel’s in charge of the whole prom.”

“Why don’t you go inside,” said Blaine testily from where he sat. “I can take it from here.”

Kurt felt like laughing, but even in the state he was in, he knew that would come out wrong. He just paced the hallway, back and forth, while Noah, Finn and Michael spoke quietly to one another. Eventually they disappeared, leaving him alone with Blaine.

“Would you at least sit down?” said Blaine. “Do you want to go? We don't have to go back in there.”

Kurt wheeled on him. “Wasn't this prom supposed to be about — about redemption? About taking away that lump you had in your throat from running away? If we leave, all it's gonna do is give me a lump too.”

Blaine didn’t quite roll his eyes, but it was close. “So what do you want to _do?”_

Kurt made himself take a moment and think about the way he’d felt when Noah had him in his arms, his voice was low and patient. Noah hadn’t tried to rush him through his crisis. When he felt the way he wanted to feel, he turned his focus back to Blaine.

“I’m gonna go back in there and get coronated,” he said. “I’m gonna show them that it doesn't matter if they are yelling at me or whispering behind my back they can't touch me. That they can't touch us. Or what we have.”

Blaine smiled at him gratefully. Kurt knew it was because he was pleased Kurt was finally being a grown-up, that he was handling his own anger. He didn’t know how awful it felt for Kurt to have to do that for himself, or how much he resented Blaine for making him do it. When Blaine stood up and offered him his hand, he almost didn’t take it.

“Are you ready for this?” Blaine asked.

 _If I am, it’s not because of you,_ he nearly said. But that would have been more than ungrateful; it would have been mean. Blaine didn’t deserve that, no matter what he’d said or done.

The dance had resumed when Kurt returned to the gym, but when they saw him, the band immediately stopped playing. Everyone made room for him to return to the stage where Principal Figgins was waiting.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he intoned, “your 2011 Prom Queen: Kurt Hummel.”

Kurt stood there while the entire junior class watched as Figgins placed the crown on his head.

Kurt could hear Chris saying _at least it’s not a tiara_ , loud and clear in his head, and he almost laughed aloud. He took the scepter from Figgins’ hand and approached the mic, keeping his head high.

Several students in the back were muttering to one another. Kurt wasn’t about to waste his big moment on an insufficiently attentive audience. With as much poise as he could muster, he employed Noah’s trick of leaning forward toward the microphone and inhaling. Magically, the audience fell silent.

“Eat your heart out, Kate Middleton,” he said.

There was a smattering of laughter. Then someone began to applaud. Within moments, the entire room was clapping and smiling. Figgins patted him on the shoulder, clearly relieved.

“And now, the tradition of our 2011 Prom King and Queen sharing their first dance.”

Dave looked uneasy, but he came to stand beside Kurt as they processed down the stairs to the dance floor.

“Now's your moment,” said Kurt. He felt completely calm.

Dave glanced over at him like he was insane. “What?”

“Come out,” he murmured, still surveying the crowd. “Make a difference.”

The band swept into the opening bars of “Dancing Queen.” Dave went from tentative to frantic in five seconds.

“I can’t,” he said, sounding desperately apologetic. Then he walked quickly away, leaving Kurt alone on the dance floor.

Kurt looked up at the stage, where Noah was strumming Michael’s guitar and watching him. Noah’s lips thinned. Then he looked over Kurt’s shoulder and made a quick gesture with his chin.

“Excuse me…” Kurt turned around to see Blaine smiling at him. He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Kurt smiled. “Yes. Yes, you may.”

To his credit, Blaine stayed right there with him for the entire song. It might have been all that kept him upright as Mercedes and Santana sang, to Noah and the jazz band’s accompaniment, and everyone in the room was focused on them dancing. It was more than a little stressful. When an enormous quantity of balloons was released onto the dance floor in the middle of the song, Kurt thought he might have to run away again, but Blaine took his hands and laughed, and somehow he got through that too. Then the music stopped, and people were smiling, and everything was normal again. The show was going on.

Except that it wasn’t. Kurt still had the same overwhelming feeling he’d had a half hour earlier of being with the _wrong person_. And now, that wrong person had positioned himself as his white knight, and he had an even crummier set of options: to abandon Blaine in the middle of prom, or to go along with things as they were. Neither one was satisfactory.

“Hey,” said Noah.

Kurt stopped where he was, startled. Noah had appeared beside him so quickly Kurt felt like he should look up at the stage to make sure Noah wasn't somehow  _also_ up there. The floor had emptied somewhat, and the band had stopped playing, but it was clear they were planning to continue in a few moments.

“Hey,” Kurt replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “I think they need you on stage.”

Noah’s eyes hadn’t left his face. “I think they’ll figure it out.”

“What’s going on?”

“Well,” said Noah, and cleared his throat. Kurt suddenly realized he was nervous. “I was thinking I might ask the prom queen for a dance.”

After a long moment, Kurt closed his mouth. Noah stared at the floor.

“I mean, it’s another tradition,” he said. “The candidates for king, they dance with the queen.”

“Oh, I see.” _It’s not because you want to dance with me,_ he could have said, but that would have been both unnecessarily rude and clearly untrue. Whatever else Noah was feeling, Kurt could tell he wanted to be there. “I — are you sure you want to do that?”

Noah shrugged. “I’m okay with dealing with the fallout. C’mon.”

He held out his arms in a ballroom dance position, and Kurt stepped forward to fit himself into it. It wasn’t until the music began that Kurt realized the band had been waiting for them to be ready.

[ https://youtu.be/pZ-LV38Bnzw?t=12s ](https://youtu.be/pZ-LV38Bnzw?t=12s)

_We were both young when I first saw you_   
_I close my eyes and the flashback starts_   
_I'm standing there on a balcony in summer air_   
_See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns_   
_See you make your way through the crowd_   
_And say, "Hello, "_   
_Little did I know  
That you were Romeo…_

“This is the stupidest fucking song,” said Noah. He sounded very ordinary, which helped deflect some of the looks and whispers they were getting.

“I like it,” Kurt said.

“It’s not the song.” Noah’s hand tightened on Kurt’s back, pulling him a little closer as another couple moved past them onto the dance floor. Kurt realized it was Tina and Mike, but he wasn’t going to look away from Noah to tell them how much he appreciated their presence. “It’s the idea. _Romeo and Juliet_ is a _tragedy._ People think it’s a great love story, but it’s not.”

“Can’t it be a tragedy and a great love story at the same time?”

“I guess?” Noah sounded dubious. “Let me think about that… politics, secrets, revenge, misunderstandings, suicide? Yeah, no.”

“Okay, when you put it that way, it’s not exactly the kind of story you want to pattern your relationship after.”

“Yeah, exactly. I’d rather my life be a comedy. Even if it’s a little fucked up, at least I’d get some laughs.”

Kurt gripped Noah’s hand tightly as they turned and swayed. There were several couples on the dance floor now, some of whom Kurt knew and others he didn’t. Most of them were smiling at them. He managed to smile back.

“You think this qualifies as a tragedy or a comedy?” he asked.

Noah appeared to think this over. “Ask me again sometime,” he said at last.

“When?”

“You’ll know when.”

When the dance was over, Noah let him go and stepped away. Kurt could feel the change inside himself, but he simply nodded his thanks. That would have to be enough for now.

None of the other prom king candidates offered to dance with Kurt, but he didn’t know any of them well enough to expect that, even if the genders involved had been ordinary. Dave Karofsky had disappeared, and Finn and Jesse were both gone. Kurt turned to Blaine.

“Can we please go home now?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.” Blaine took his hand. Kurt hadn’t noticed where Blaine had gone while Noah was dancing with him, but then, he hadn’t noticed much other than the feeling of being in Noah’s arms. _The right arms,_ said his heart, or possibly some other part of his anatomy.

He sighed and put the keys to the Navigator into Blaine’s hand. On the way home, he rested his head on the window and didn’t say anything.

Blaine parked the Navigator in the garage, then passed the keys back to Kurt. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked. “I could come in for a little while. Or would you rather just go to bed?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “But I think... I shouldn’t be making any big decisions tonight, regardless.”

Blaine nodded. “That sounds like a good plan. We can just sit here for a few minutes.”

Kurt tried that for a little while, but eventually he sighed and shook his head. “I’m going to go inside. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Blaine said. “It’ll take a while to get over what happened tonight.” He gave Kurt a kiss on the cheek. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

 _I won’t get over it,_ he thought, watching Blaine walk to his car and drive away. _This isn’t something you get over. This… is the end, of everything._

He came into the quiet house to find Finn sitting, alone, on the couch in the living room. He’d already taken off his tux and put on his pajama pants and a t-shirt. He gave Kurt a lopsided smile.

“I wasn’t sure where you’d be,” said Kurt. “Did Michael…?”

“Michael went home,” he said. “He said the drama was too much, and he needed a break. I guess I can’t blame him after tonight.”

“I guess not.” He set his bag down on the coffee table. Next to it he gently placed the scepter and the crown. Finn nodded at them.

“I heard about the, uh. The coronation.” He held up a hand, and Kurt took it, holding on tight.  “You okay?”

“No,” he said, his voice wobbly, “but… it’s complicated. It’s more complicated than you think. Or maybe it isn’t.”

“Well, I’m here if you want to talk,” said Finn. “Or not talk. You could make warm milk and stuff and we could… not talk.”

He slowly let out his breath. “Warm milk and not talking sounds exactly right.”

It took Finn another two weeks to break up with Quinn, but Kurt was pretty sure nobody other than Quinn was surprised by it. Kurt, on the other hand, could not seem to manage to break up with Blaine. Blaine wasn’t making it any easier. He said _I can’t right now_ three times in a row to an invitation to get together. Although he insisted he wasn’t, Kurt had to entertain the idea Blaine was avoiding him on purpose.

“I’m just really busy right now, Kurt,” he said. “You know how stressful Dalton classes are. I have no idea if I’m even going to pass everything or not.”

This was a joke, considering how good Blaine’s grades had been last year, but Kurt tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He finally said he would call Blaine after they got back from Nationals, and left it at that. They hadn’t spoken for days.

“I have no idea what we’re doing,” said Kurt to Finn while they waited in the airport to board their flight.

“I know what you mean,” said Finn. “We don’t even have a song _written_ yet, much less practiced it. And Mr. Schue expects us to come up with the choreography… when, exactly? I’m pretty sure this is not how you’re supposed to win at Nationals.”

“No, I mean… I’m not talking about Glee club.” He stole a glance at Noah, sitting two rows over in the terminal.

“Did you guys talk about what happened at prom?”

Kurt shrugged. “No. But Puck’s not a big talker. I don’t think I would know what to say, anyway. Every time we try, we always get stuck in the same spot, so… I think we gave up again.”

“Yeah.” He nudged Kurt’s arm. “But we’re going to New York, at least. Is there anything you want to do while you’re there?”

“My bucket list is pretty long, but there are a few things I think I can check off. Walk through Times Square and Central Park. Sing karaoke at Arlene’s Grocery. Visit the Degas sculptures on the second floor of the Met. Buy something in my price range at Bergdorf Goodman — that might be the hardest.”

“Whoa,” said Finn. “You’ve obviously been giving this some thought. You and Rachel, man. She talks about New York all the time.”

Kurt moved his feet out of the aisle as a woman wheeled her suitcase past them. “What I really want to do is see a real Broadway theater.”

“Are you going to try to get tickets to something? I don’t think we’re going to have time to see a show.”

He shook his head. “My savings have been completely consumed by all the driving back and forth this year from Westerville to Lima. I don’t think I could afford a ticket to a show even if I’d planned for it. No, I just want to walk up to the stage."

“Come on, kids, we’re boarding,” called Mr. Schue. They all rose to their feet, shuffling into the line. Kurt took a deep breath, smiling up at Finn.

“I’m really glad to be here, anyway,” he said. “Whatever happens.”

Kurt had a window seat. When Noah sat down in the seat next to him, Kurt frowned and checked his ticket.

“That’s Mercedes’ seat.”

“Not anymore,” said Noah. He put on his lap belt and tightened the strap. “You and me, we’ve got plans to make. I hope you weren’t expecting to help write this stupid song for Glee when we get to New York.”

“Not really.” Kurt eyed him. “What kind of plans?”

He pulled a printout from his pocket and brandished it triumphantly in front of Kurt’s nose. “Brian fucking Bedford’s[ playing Lady Bracknell in ](http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/14/theater/reviews/14importance.html) [ _The Importance of Being Earnest_ at the Roundabout](http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/14/theater/reviews/14importance.html) _._ He’s in the running for a Tony. Chance of a lifetime, and I am _not_ going to miss it.” His eyes glittered at Kurt. “And you are coming with me.”  

“He’s playing who?” Kurt took the printout, which turned out to be a New York Times review of the performance. “Isn’t that a — a woman’s part?”

“Yeah, and apparently he’s kicking ass at it.” Noah’s eyebrows went way up. “It’s _Brian Bedford._ Come on, Kurt.”

The flight attendant stood beside them and showed the whole cabin what to do in case of an emergency. Kurt waited until he moved away down the aisle, then leaned over to Noah again. “And how exactly are we supposed to get tickets?”

“Don’t worry about that part. I’m taking care of it. Just say yes.”

He gripped both armrests hard as the airplane accelerated down the runway. The feeling in his stomach as they took off into the air was a familiar one, though he’d never flown before. He’d felt it in moments alone with Noah.

“Okay,” he said. “Yes.”

“Yes,” Noah echoed quietly. He smiled in satisfaction as he sat back in his seat. “So what _else_ are we going to do?”

“Um…” Kurt closed his eyes, laughing helplessly. “Actually, I have a list.”

“Of course you do.”

He felt Noah’s fingers tuck into his, and Kurt squeezed his hand as tightly as he’d been gripping the armrest. _It’s the right hand,_ he thought, and he let out a soft sigh.

“I’m not going to break any laws,” he warned Noah.

“Roger that,” said Noah. “I’ll be sure to break them all for you.”

It took surprisingly little effort to sneak away. They apparently weren’t the only ones with alternative plans. Noah grinned as he pulled Kurt into the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby. “We’ve got two hours before we have to be at the corner of 7th Avenue and 44th Street,” he said.

“What’s happening there?”

“Finn’s taking Rachel on a working date, and me and Artie and Sam are providing the music. He’s convinced that giving her flowers and taking her to lunch at Sardi’s and serenading her with a fucking accordion isn’t going to feel like love, as long as he says it’s not.” Noah rolled his eyes at Kurt’s grin. “Yeah.”

“But she’ll adore it,” said Kurt. “She’ll never forget it.”

“Yeah,” Noah said again. “You hopeless romantics.”

“Me?” Kurt put a hand to his chest. Noah snorted.

“You,” he said. “You even liked that Taylor Swift song at prom.”

Kurt poked him in the ribs. “You even knew it was Taylor Swift.”

“Hey, what do you want from me? I have an eight-year-old sister.”

They walked several long blocks along the Avenue of the Americas. There was so much to see, and Noah didn’t seem to be in a big hurry. He didn’t even object when Kurt asked him to pause and wander around Rockefeller Center.

“So… where are we going?” Kurt asked finally.

“Killing two birds with one stone,” said Noah. He pulled out his phone and paused on the corner while he slowly typed out a text. “I needed to pick a place to meet my supplier, so I figured we might as well make it Central Park.”

The park was bigger than Kurt had expected it to be. Even after walking along the winding road for several minutes, they were still surrounded by nothing but trees. They stopped on a bridge crossing a large pond as Noah scanned their surroundings. Then he seized Kurt’s hand and tugged him over to where an elderly man stood beside the railing, reading a paperback.

“Bryce,” he called.

The man looked up from his book, and smiled in recognition. “Noah.” He held out a hand, and Noah shook it. “My goodness, you do look more like your father every year. And this must be Kurt Hummel. I recognize you from your audition videos.”

“Mr. Coleman,” said Kurt, trying not to stammer. “I — didn’t realize you were the person we were going to meet.”

“I’m seldom in Manhattan at this time of year, but Noah told me you would be here this weekend, so I made arrangements. Show choir competition?” He raised an eyebrow, and Noah laughed, shrugging. “Well, I suppose performance opportunities are limited in high school.” He turned back to Kurt, smiling conspiratorially. “You’re seeing _The Importance of Being Earnest_ this evening, I hear? Do you enjoy that show?”

“I don’t actually know it,” Kurt admitted. “But Noah told me it’s an historic opportunity.”

“Mmm. Brian Bedford is not a young man. Nor am I, for that matter. One must take opportunities where one finds them.” He took out his wallet and opened it, then withdrew two tickets, handing them to Noah with a stern look. “Perhaps he would have been more impressed with musical theater, Noah?”

“I do love musical theater,” Kurt said quickly. “But Noah has been expanding my horizons.”

Mr. Coleman’s lip twitched in amusement. “So I hear.”

Noah winced as Kurt felt his cheeks flush. “Jeez, Bryce.”

He tucked his wallet back into his pocket with a breezy sigh. “Well, I suppose seeing _Earnest_ will be good preparation for this summer. You’ll be ready to audition for Algernon, I hope?”

“We’re doing _Earnest?”_ Noah cried. He clutched Kurt’s hand in excitement as Mr. Coleman nodded. His face was calm, but Kurt had the feeling he was just as pleased as Noah was underneath. “Hot damn. But — Algernon? That’s totally Chris’ part.”

Mr. Coleman looked at him reprovingly over the narrow lenses of his glasses. “You will allow me the opportunity to cast my own shows, Noah. I might have a few more years experience at that task than you.”

“Yeah. Totally.” Noah chewed on his lip, glancing at Kurt. “Which Shakespeare are we going to do?”

“Oh, I don’t want to ruin all the surprises.” Mr. Coleman smiled at Kurt again. “I must apologize on behalf of this young man here. His enthusiasm often overrides his better judgment.”

Kurt didn’t bother to suppress his giggle. “I think I might have witnessed that happening once or twice.”

“For pete’s sake,” Noah grumbled, but Mr. Coleman ignored him entirely.

“What were you hoping to see? _Wicked,_ perhaps? _The Book of Mormon,_ if that doesn’t offend you too terribly?”

“We won’t have time for a second show,” said Kurt. “I really do want to see _The Importance of Being Earnest._ ” He glanced over at Noah. “Maybe… could we walk by the Gershwin on the way back, though? I’d like to take a picture of the _Wicked_ marquee for Rachel.”

“Rachel.” Mr. Coleman put a considering finger to his lip. “Your girlfriend, perhaps.”

Kurt coughed. “No… no. She’s in our show choir. We have… a friendly competition regarding that musical.”

Mr. Coleman made a _tsk_ ing noise as he reached into his pocket again. “Noah, this is what you’ll do. The box office is open now. Stop by and give them my card, and tell them you’d like to come by the theater tomorrow morning before they open.”

“You’re serious?” Kurt squeaked. “That would be amazing.”

Mr. Coleman shook both their hands again and wished them well before returning to his book. They turned around and walked back the way they’d come toward 59th Street.

“That was very strange. I mean, I know you told me who he was, but I didn’t expect… this kind of thing.” Kurt looked at Noah and shook his head, feeling dazed. “Rachel is never going to understand how I was able to set up a private visit to the Gershwin Theater.”

“Well, you can pretend you snuck in, then. I bet we could get one of the ushers to fake catching you in the aisle and threaten to throw you out, if you think it would add to the authenticity.”

Kurt ignored this. “I mean… Noah, you have _influence.”_

“Yeah, I guess.” Noah sighed and looked away. “I don’t really like to use it.”

“Why _not?_ ” Kurt exclaimed.

Noah spoke in a monotone. “Because it means I have to deal with my dad. Every time I run into somebody who knows him, I have to go through the story all over again. They ask about his health, and I have to lie, or I tell them the truth. Either way it sucks.”

Kurt was silent for a while as they walked. When he took Noah’s hand again, Noah held it.

“You did it for me,” he said.

Noah snorted. “No, I did it because I wanted to see Brian fucking Bedford.” He gave Kurt a sidelong glance. “And for you.”

They zigzagged their way back between the avenues, stopping at every theater along the way back. Noah took pictures of Kurt in front of each marquee, but declined to be in any of them.

“Mr. Tracy told me I should write a play,” Kurt said. “My own play. He thinks I’m good enough to do that.”

“Yeah,” said Noah, smiling. “Sure, you are. You’re a good writer. I have tons of ideas, but there’s no way I would have the patience to write them down.”

“Well.” Kurt swung their hand between them as they walked. “You wrote some of them down in your notebook…”

“Oh, fuck, Kurt, you promised you wouldn’t talk to me about that.” Noah snatched his hand back and pressed both of them to his ears. “Jesus.”

“There were some good ideas in there,” Kurt said, pulling on his arm. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“Are you kidding? I _totally_ have to be embarrassed.” He didn’t look angry, though, so Kurt kept hold of his arm and moved to walk a little closer. After a moment, Noah slid an arm around him, resting his hand on Kurt’s hip.

“Nobody’s even noticing us walking like this,” Kurt murmured. “Nobody even cares.”

Noah turned his head and placed a kiss on Kurt’s hair. “I care.”

It was a long walk to the Gershwin, but Kurt felt like it took far too short a time. His whole body was tingling with the excitement of being close to Noah. They walked into the covered garage and paused at the box office ticket booth.

“Excuse me,” said Kurt to the agent, “could I speak to your manager? I have a request.”

The agent looked suspicious, but she took Mr. Coleman’s card and disappeared through a door behind her desk. Kurt turned to Noah and bit his lip.

“I hope you won’t hate me for this,” he said, “but — I’m trying to seize opportunities as they present themselves.”

Then he took Noah’s face in both hands and kissed him, trying to put all the appreciation and gratitude and admiration he felt for him into the experience. Noah made a surprised moan, but he didn’t try to pull away. When Kurt finally took a step back, Noah regarded him with something like awe.

“You are so fucking good at that,” he said.

“Yeah,” Kurt said, laughing breathlessly. “You… you, too.”

Noah glanced at the ticket booth, still empty, then back to Kurt. “You think we have time to do that again before—“

The door opened, and a man in a suit came into the booth, smiling at the two of them through the window. He handed Mr. Coleman’s card back to Kurt. “I’m Mr. Underwood, the general manager of the Gershwin Theater. How can I help you, Mr…?”

“Just Kurt.” He raised his eyebrows at Noah beside him. “This is so weird,” he whispered.

Noah made a motion that began as a flourish and ended as a very obviously rude gesture. “Be my guest.”

“I’m not taking advantage of you?”

He laughed out loud. “Yeah. We can debate the morality of my decisions later, Kurt.” Then he stepped up to the booth and nodded at the manager. “Hey there. We’d like to arrange a visit.”

Rachel managed to move relatively silently as they tiptoed out the the stage door of the Gershwin the following morning, but Kurt tripped over a stack of plastic milk crates. The noise they made in the alley at 9:30 AM was unbelievably loud, and they burst out laughing as they ran around the corner and across the street.

“Oh, my god, I thought we were going to get _arrested,”_ Rachel gasped. She leaned against the brick wall of the building. “That was amazing. I can’t believe you had the guts to actually break in.”

“I have a lot of hidden influence,” he said. “But if we want to get back to the hotel before the competition begins, we’re going to have to walk quickly. Or take a cab.”

“I think I’m more scared of a New York cab ride than of being late for Nationals. Let’s walk.”

“So.” Kurt watched her carefully. “Did something happen with Finn yesterday?”

She sighed. “What gave it away?”

“Glee club’s finely-tuned gossip mill. It was Puck, actually. He told me he and the other boys sang for you.”

“It was very romantic,” she said. “And I told him no, because I know how he really feels about someone else. He might be willing to lie to himself, but I don’t think I can let him do that to me anymore. I’m just going to tell him my career is more important than my relationship with him.”

Kurt nodded slowly. “I think… I mean, I hope I wouldn’t ever have to choose between the two, but… if I did, I would like to think I would make that choice. To pick the stage over a boy.”

She looked at him. “But that’s not how you really feel.”

“I was hoping I wasn’t quite that transparent.”

She smiled. “Well, I noticed you and Noah were gone a lot yesterday. Including last night, until late, while Finn was writing the song we’re going to sing at Nationals. Did something happen with him?”

They paused at the corner, waiting for the light to change. “I didn’t cheat on Blaine, if that’s what you’re asking. But we did see a show.”

“A — a show?” She was clearly not expecting that answer. “You went to a musical?”

“No, a play. _The Importance of Being Earnest._ It was really fantastic. Noah… Puck. We’re doing the play at theater camp this summer.”

“Oh, Kurt!” She smiled as they hurried across the street. “That’s amazing.”

He nodded. “Can I tell you something? I haven’t talked to anybody about this, not even Finn. I don't think Mercedes and Tina want to hear it.”

“Of course. About Noah?”

“I think so. And about Blaine, and about me, I suppose." He tried to collect his thoughts. "In the past, I’ve thought a lot about what I want out of life, but… it hasn’t been until recently that I decided there are some things I _don’t_ want.”

“And what’s that?”

“I don’t want to compromise myself. I want… to be in a relationship, a _real_ one. Where I can proudly tell everybody _this is my partner. My husband._ ” Kurt closed his eyes, feeling the word resonate inside. “I think I told myself for a long time that that didn’t matter to me, but it does. I don’t want to have to pretend it isn’t important.”

“You deserve that,” she said fiercely, and clutched his arm.

“Thanks. And I thought, maybe, until recently, it might be okay if I had a boy who was not quite what I wanted, but who I liked, and who liked me. I thought that sounded reasonable, that I could feel satisfied with that. But…” He felt the pounding of his chest, and he had to stop talking for a moment. “It turns out that’s not enough for me. There seems to be… a particular person, or at least right now only one person, who gives me what I need. Who feels _right.”_

“Oh, Kurt.” He could see Rachel was crying, but he just nodded, keeping his head up and facing forward.

“I knew this at prom. Before that, I think, but… it just became really clear at that point. And then all that stuff happened with being prom queen, and Blaine was so... I couldn’t break up with him after that. I feel terrible about it.”

They reached the hotel lobby undetected, watching the elevator to make sure no one noticed them get on. She took his hand.

“I think you’re doing the right thing,” she said. “For whatever that’s worth, I’m proud of you.”

He laughed. “I don’t know what I _am_ doing. Things with… other people… are still up in the air. He and I can’t be together, not the way things are. But I don’t think I can stay with Blaine. Not when it feels so wrong.”

Kurt saw Noah once more before their performance, in the hallway as they went down to the lobby. He gave Kurt what looked like a cocky, confident smile.

“How was the Gershwin?”

“Magical,” he said. “They turned the stage lights on, and we stood up there and sang.”

“Awesome. So… Finn and Brittany wrote some pretty good songs for this thing.”

Kurt nodded, holding his hands together. “I heard you were up until three o’clock working on the choreography.”

“Hey, well.” Noah made a dismissive gesture. “Who needs sleep when you’ve just experienced two hours and eighteen minutes of Brian Bedford in a dress?”  

Kurt laughed, probably longer than the joke deserved. “I’m nervous,” he admitted.

“News flash: we probably won’t win.”

“Not about the competition.” He took a deep breath and looked into Noah’s eyes, watching him respond to his closeness. “I’m nervous about what’s going to happen when we get home. After I break up with Blaine.”

Noah opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Eventually he closed it again, looking away. They rode the rest of the way down to the first floor in tense silence. Kurt stepped into the lobby first.

“Kurt?”

He turned around. Noah nodded.

“Break a leg.”

“You, too.”

It occurred to Kurt, at some point that morning, that he had no idea which of the two songs they were singing Finn had written. _Really,_ he thought as they danced and sang their way through them, _it could have been either one._

_ _

[ _https://youtu.be/RWtkqvOwMvI_ ](https://youtu.be/RWtkqvOwMvI)

_How long do I fantasize_   
_Make believe that it's still alive_   
_Imagine that I am good enough_   
_And we can choose the ones we love_   
_But I hold on, I stay strong  
Wondering if we still belong_

_\- “Pretending”_

_ _

[ _https://youtu.be/1JwFFLzJc0g_ ](https://youtu.be/1JwFFLzJc0g)

_You and me keep on dancing in the dark_   
_It's been tearing me apart  
Never knowing what we are_

_Hey, hey, hey, you and me keep on trying to play it cool_   
_Now it's time to make a move  
And that's what I'm gonna do_

_\- “Light Up the World”_

_ _

Kurt met Blaine at the door to the Lima Bean, hugging him and holding on tight. Blaine hugged him back.

“I missed you, too,” Blaine murmured. “Okay if I breathe now?”

“Sorry.” Kurt shook his head. “It was an intense weekend.”

Blaine nodded. “Will you tell me all about it? I already ordered your coffee.”

Kurt resolutely decided he was _not_ going to cry about Blaine knowing his coffee order. They took a seat at their favorite table behind the post while Kurt told Blaine the story of meeting Bryce Coleman in Central Park.

“You don’t think that was a little creepy?” Blaine asked, sipping his coffee. “Jeez. I don’t know what I would have done if some old guy had flirted with _me_ like that.”

“Come on, it wasn’t like that. He was entirely asexual, in a handsome, grandfatherly Patrick Stewart sort of way. Okay, not Patrick Stewart, he’s too hot. Try Donald Sutherland.”

Blaine was laughing. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it. How was the play?”

“ _Amazing._ I will never look at drag the same way again. Honestly, it was miraculous. If you look at Brian Bedford in his thirties, you would have never expected him to play a role like that, but he just made it work. It really was a chance of a lifetime. Oh, and I didn’t even tell you about what happened at the Gershwin Theater.”

“I’m so glad you had some positive moments amid the failures.” He gave Kurt a sympathetic smile. “I’ve already read the account on the show choir blogs, but I want to hear what went on behind the scenes.”

Kurt didn’t have to add hyperbole to make the retelling of their loss at Nationals dramatic. Blaine listened through the whole thing, asking good questions and laughing at all the right parts.

“It was still amazing,” Kurt concluded. “I mean, I flew on a plane for the first time in my life, I had breakfast at Tiffany’s… I _sang_ on a Broadway stage.”

Blaine smiled at him across the table, and gave his head a little shake. “I love you.”

Kurt managed not to spit out his drink only by swallowing a too-hot mouthful of coffee. He took a deep breath. “I -- love you, too.”

Mercedes and Sam showed up and derailed the rest of their conversation, but when Kurt thought about it afterward, he was pretty sure he couldn’t have gone on at that point anyway. They made small talk about Blaine’s audition for Six Flags until it was time to leave.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” said Blaine. “Finals are over, but I still have a lot to do to prepare for the summer.”

“Okay.” Kurt turned to walk back to his car, but he made himself stop and turn back around. “Blaine… wait. This is not okay. Can we sit in your car and talk?”

“Kurt, I really have to get going,” he said, but Kurt grabbed his hand, and he stopped.

“I can’t do this.” Once he said the words, he started crying, but the words came out anyway, in and around the tears. “Blaine, when you said _I love you,_ I didn’t know what to say back. Because I do love you, but I’ve known for a while now that how I feel about you isn’t the kind of love I need to have with my boyfriend. It’s like…” He sniffed, wiping his eyes, and went on. “Like what I see when Finn talks about Rachel. He loves her, and it’s romantic and maybe even passionate, but it’s not — it’s not _enough._ And watching him try to make it enough, it just breaks my heart. I want to yell at him and tell him to _stop,_ to stop trying to make it good enough.”

“Kurt,” said Blaine, looking uncomfortably around the parking lot, but Kurt shook his head vigorously.

“No, I have to — you have to listen. I’ve been trying to say this for a long time and you have to _listen._ Blaine... I don’t want to be your boyfriend.”

“Kurt.” Blaine’s eyes filled up and spilled over in hurt and betrayal. “I can’t believe you’re telling me this.”

“No, you said you didn’t want me to do anything that didn’t feel right. Right? Remember when you said that?”

“But I didn’t mean _us,”_ he protested. “You and I… Kurt, you’re my best friend. There’s nobody like you in the world. What we have, it’s exactly what I want.”

“But it’s not what _I_ want,” said Kurt. “I thought it was, but it’s not. I know what I want, and — and this isn’t it.”

Blaine’s eyes darkened. “You can’t be serious. You’d rather have the hope of... some joke of a relationship with a closeted boy than what you and I _actually_ have? Kurt, this is _real._ What he’s offering you, it’s nothing but an act.”

“He’s not offering me anything. I don’t even know if I’m going to get to have — _anything_ with him. I only know what I want, and what I don’t want.” He shook his head, still crying. “I’m sorry, Blaine. I would give anything to have been able to figure this out before I hurt you like this.”

Blaine took several deep breaths, staring at the concrete of the parking lot. “Okay,” he said, “look, I know you’re probably feeling… a lot of things after your weekend in New York. I think you should take a little time to think about this. Okay? Will you give me that?”

“Blaine, I don’t need any more time,” said Kurt.

Blaine shook his head. “Just… hear me out, okay? I love you. I know you love me. I know… we had something amazing. I still think we can have that. You know I don’t have any expectations about how much you love me, or how it compares to anything else you’ve had in the past. But that, what you had, that was _in the past._ Can you acknowledge that? You can’t expect to have that again. What you had with Noah, it’s _over.”_

Kurt paused for a moment. Then he nodded. “That’s true.”

“Right, so… so I hear what you’re saying, that what we have isn’t what you want. You’re not happy, and I get that. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want, Kurt.” He put a tentative hand out and rested it on Kurt’s shoulder, his eyes plaintive. “But I _don’t_ want you to throw away something wonderful just because you’re searching for something that’s gone. I am, and I always will be, devoted to you, Kurt.”

He felt the words hit, let them sink in, and smiled. “Thank you, Blaine.”

“And I think… you might need some time apart from me. To get clarity. I think that might be good for both of us.” Blaine was calm again now. “I’m going to be in Aurora at Six Flags, probably, and you’re going to be on Long Island at Usdan. And then, when we get back in the fall, we can talk about what’s next. All right?”

It sounded so rational that Kurt had to nod. “All right.”

Blaine let out a shaky breath. “Can I hug you?”

“Oh, Blaine.” He let Blaine move into his arms, feeling him crying, and held on. “You can always hug me.”

“I can’t lose you, Kurt,” he sobbed. “You mean the world to me. I mean it.”

“We’ll see,” he said, feeling a twinge of uneasiness, but he put it away. They would have time to deal with this after the summer was over.

Kurt drove home to find Finn sitting on the couch in front of the Wii in the basement, the controller in his slack hand, fast asleep. When Kurt took the controller away and turned off the television, Finn didn’t even move. He went upstairs to let him rest.

Then Carole asked him, “So how was New York?” Kurt couldn’t even get through a sentence without crying, so she just hugged him instead.

“You want me to call anybody?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said. She smiled, stroking his hair.

“Do you think he’ll pick up, if I call him?”

“Maybe not.” He handed her his cell phone. “Try this.”

Kurt sat on the couch upstairs, staring at the television, which happened to be off, until a long while later he heard the front door open.

“Noah’s here,” said Carole.

Kurt wiped his face for what felt like the millionth time that day. “He wants to be called Puck.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. H,” said Noah. “You can call me whatever you want.” He came over and sat down in the chair adjacent to the couch, setting his guitar case beside him.

“Why’d you bring the guitar?” Kurt asked.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d need it,” he said. “It helped once before.”

“More than once. You played your guitar at prom, too.”

“Yeah, I think playing Rihanna on Michael’s electric hardly qualifies.” But Noah shrugged. “I’m glad it helped, anyway.”

“It did,” Kurt whispered. “It was like… you were taking care of me from across the room.”

Noah’s expression shifted into a pleased smile, but it vanished just as quickly. “So. Did you do it?”

Kurt felt his stomach twist and tear, like he was wringing out a wet paper napkin. “I… tried.”

Noah laughed quietly. Now his smile was wry. “How’d that go?”

“We’re taking a break for the summer. Blaine’s idea.”

“Of course,” said Noah. “He knows you’re gonna be with me.”

“Just — don’t,” said Kurt, holding out a hand. Noah nodded again.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Kurt nodded.

“How’d it feel when you did it?”

“When I… did it?”

“When you broke up with him,” said Noah. “How did it feel, in that moment before he talked you back into it?”

Kurt felt his breath rest heavily in his chest. “It felt… I was relieved,” he said. “I thought it might be over.”

“But it’s not.”

He shook his head. “We’re going to see how it feels after the summer is over, when we both come back. But for now, we’re… it’s on hold.”

“All right.” Noah sat there for a moment, his face in shadow. Kurt could see the muscles in his jaw clenching and relaxing. Then he leaned down and unsnapped the latches on his guitar case. When he glanced up at Kurt, his face was smooth again. “Any requests?”

“Anything you want to play,” said Kurt. He put his arms around his elbows, feeling exhausted and wretched and ashamed and a whole host of other unpleasant things.

Noah tuned his guitar, playing random chord progressions, but eventually they sorted themselves out into a song Kurt had heard a lot in the past twenty-four hours.

_Face to face and heart to heart_   
_We're so close yet so far apart_   
_I close my eyes I look away  
That's just because I'm not okay_

“Anything but that,” Kurt said, his voice coming out flat and ugly. Noah paused, his fingers still on the strings. He gave Kurt a sardonic smile.

“You think we would have won if he hadn’t kissed her on stage?” he said.

“No.” Kurt shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because we didn’t practice. We can’t assume just because we’ve got a bunch of good singers and dancers and a lot of heart that we’re going to win things.”

Noah nodded. “My dad always said he had to put in the work before he figured out what he was trying to accomplish with every role. Up until that point, it was just playing around.” He strummed as he spoke, letting the music take shape around his words, not like background music, but like the music were his words, too. “Everything takes work, Kurt. Even the best things.”

He nodded, trying to follow Noah’s train of thought, but he was so tired, and after the conversation he’d had with Blaine, everything felt hard. He closed his eyes.

“You love me?” came Noah’s voice quietly into the room.

“Yes,” said Kurt.

“And you still think I’m worth waiting for, after all we’ve put each other through?”

“Yes.”

“Can I tell you who I’ve been seeing for the past couple months in Dayton?”

Kurt nodded, trying not to cry. He kept his eyes closed. The guitar music continued, serene and constant, as Noah took a deep breath.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist.”

His eyes opened, and he looked at Noah, taking in his mouth, his hands, all the parts of him that sat there beside him in his living room.

“Oh,” he said. “That’s... the guy you’ve been seeing?”

“Yeah.” Noah’s mouth curved up in a hint of a smile. He changed chords seamlessly, his fingers moving on the frets more easily than walking. “He’s helping me talk about my dad. And my Ma, too, I guess, although she’s not interested in fixing anything. At least she’s letting me and Sarah work around her shit at the house.” He glanced up at Kurt, and he felt it like a touch on his cheek. “You did that, you know.”

“I know,” he said.

Noah nodded, as though to himself. “That was something that made me realize how much you really loved me. Even though I was pushing you away, you weren’t going to let that stop you from making things better for me and Sarah, not if you could help it.” He shrugged. “Anyway. My dad said he wants things to get better between us. He’s paying for me to see this guy once a week. And my therapist, he was the one who told me I should be single for a while, until I was able to get clear about some stuff.”

“Okay?”

Kurt wasn’t sure what else to say, but Noah didn’t seem to need any more of a response than that. He nodded. “So I think I am. More clear, I mean. I haven’t figured all of it out, but I think I’m getting there. Where I need to be, to be… the guy you need me to be.”

Kurt nodded again, and swallowed. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, and gave Kurt a long-suffering look. “Being celibate is really the pits.”

“I think you’ll manage,” said Kurt. “I am.”

Noah paused, mid-strum, his face a picture of confusion. It made Kurt want to laugh, but he didn’t.

“You and Blaine aren’t —“

“No,” said Kurt.

“Huh.” He went on playing, looking more thoughtful now. “I wouldn’t care if you did.”

“Yes, you would.”

Noah’s face twitched into a smile, and he looked a little embarrassed. “Well, you could do it anyway.”

“There’s only one person I want to have sex with.”

It was more than a little satisfying to watch Noah’s eyes flutter closed, and to watch his throat move as he swallowed. “Okay, it’s really fucking scary how well that works right now.”

“Trust me, I get it,” said Kurt.

“I mean, when you kissed me outside the theater, I seriously thought I was gonna —“

“Finn’s _mother_ is in the kitchen,” Kurt whispered, and Noah snickered before subsiding. He was still playing. “So when you said that to me about the summer, about us being together at Usdan? Did you already know that wasn’t going to happen?”

“Well,” said Noah. “I may have had a conversation with my therapist about it afterward.”

“Oh?” He didn’t mean to sound quite so hopeful, but Noah smiled anyway.

“Yeah, I did. He thinks you and I should talk about our relationship goals and see if we might be able to find a way to make things work.”

Kurt sat up, leaning forward on the couch. “What do you think about that?”

“Well, when I’m not freaking out or running away or being pissed at my dad, I think it sounds like a good idea.”

Noah grinned at him over the guitar, and Kurt laughed, watching his smile grow.

“I love you,” he said. It felt one hundred percent right.

“Yeah,” said Noah. “I love you, too, Kurt.”

“Would you come and sit here on the couch next to me?” He moved to the side, making room. “You can bring the guitar. I just… you’re too far away.” He watched Noah looking at the empty space on the cushion. “You’ve been too far away for a long time,” he added.

“I know.” He made an apologetic face. “I kind of needed it. Not because I wanted it, but… to make it work, I couldn’t be around you.”

“It’s okay. And I think, if you want to start having this conversation about relationship goals, I’d really like to do that.”

He’d stopped playing. “Kurt, you still have a boyfriend.”

“Well,” Kurt said, and paused. He sighed unhappily. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait, then.”

Kurt felt the gulf of the empty space between them on the couch. He was now further away from Noah than he had been a few minutes ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to move back into it.

“I thought,” said Noah, “that I’d play you this song. And then I thought, if you don’t mind, I would kiss you. And then I’d go home and, uh.” He glanced at the kitchen doorway, which was empty. “Maybe you could read to me on the phone before bed.”

Kurt curled up on the couch, nodding. “Yes,” he added. “That sounds… wonderful.”

“And _read to me on the phone_ is not code for _have phone sex,_ okay?”

 _"Okay,”_ said Kurt, and it sounded so disappointed that both of them started laughing. “Okay!” he said again. “Yes. I get it.”

“Okay.” This time Noah’s smile was nothing but sweet. The music from his guitar shifted to measured arpeggios. Kurt had only heard the song once, but it was etched into his memory, and he knew immediately what it was. He put a hand to his mouth, watching through his tears as Noah sang to him:

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJEd5YyHbU8 ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJEd5YyHbU8)

_It's not enough for me to know_   
_That you're feeling down_   
_That your emotions overflow  
And your tears fall to the ground_

_Could it be you've been worried too much_   
_I do that myself all the time_   
_So on this bracelet I've engraved  
Words for just one more night_

_Hold tight, don't let go_   
_Put your hand in mine_   
_Hold tight, hold tight  
Hold tight, put your hand in mine_

The bracelet was currently in a box in the basement with most of the rest of the things he’d brought back from Dalton, but he touched his wrist, missing the feeling of it, the coarseness of the leather and the skilled curve of the silver and the beauty of the carved words and _fleurs des lis._ They were all the things that he loved most about Noah.

Noah’s eyes rested on his wrist, and he smiled as he sang the rest of the song. When he was done, there was a smattering of applause from the direction of the kitchen. They both looked over to see Carole standing there, clasping her hands together and just on the edge of tears.

“Oh,” she said, her voice distorted. “That was… I’m sorry to listen in, Noah, I couldn’t help it. Was that the piece you wrote for Kurt when Burt was in the hospital?”

“Yeah,” he said. He raised an eyebrow at Kurt, who mouthed _I’m sorry_ , but Noah didn’t appear to be upset. “I still think it’s a pretty dumb song, but Kurt likes it, so… that’s all.”

“It’s a lot,” she said. “You’ve come a long way this year.”

He looked startled. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” she said, very firmly. “I’m sure I’ve already embarrassed you enough, but… yes.” She wiped her cheeks. “I’m just... going to go back in the kitchen now.”

Noah grinned, watching her go. “Dude, she is totally Finn’s mother."

Kurt nodded. He wasn’t about to trust his voice. While Noah put his guitar away, he sat up, smoothing his pants and wishing he’d thought to brush his teeth when he got home. It seemed to take Noah forever to do this task, each latch on the guitar case taking an additional several eons to fasten.

Then Noah came over and sat beside him on the couch, in exactly the place he’d refused to sit a few minutes before, and Kurt had time for one startled breath before Noah’s hands were framing his face and kissing him. It was as passionate and perfect as their kiss in New York had been -- except now Noah was there on his couch and there was nobody else in the room to watch what they did. And Kurt was officially _taking a break_ from his boyfriend Blaine.

Tentatively, he let his hands move to Noah’s chest, then down to his stomach, tucking under the hem of his t-shirt to rest on his tense abdomen. Noah took a long, slow breath. Then he kissed him again, more gently this time, letting it linger.

“And what is a kiss, specifically?” he murmured. His mouth rested on Kurt’s jaw as he spoke, so that Kurt could feel each brush of the words as they passed his lips. “A pledge properly sealed… a promise seasoned to taste, a vow stamped with the immediacy of a lip. A rosy circle drawn around the verb 'to love.’”

Noah inhaled, too long and deliberate to be anything other than for the purpose of sniffing him, like he was a delicious feast. Kurt quivered.

“A kiss is a message too intimate for the ear,” he said, “infinity captured in the bee's brief visit to a flower, secular communication with an aftertaste of heaven, the pulse rising from the heart to utter its name on a lover's lip: _forever.”_

Kurt let his eyes close, even though the sight of Noah leaning over him to speak Cyrano’s words was something he would prefer not to miss. He could hear Noah’s chuckle.

“You love this romantic shit,” Noah whispered.

“So do you,” Kurt whispered back.

Noah paused to rest his forehead against Kurt’s neck, smiling. His sigh was more pleased than frustrated, which, all things considered, felt like a win.

“Okay.” He stood up and reached for his guitar. “I’m heading home. I’ll call you before bed.” He leaned into the kitchen and called, “Tell Finn if he gets his head out of his ass, he and Michael and Kurt and I can have a double date at the opera house.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Carole called back.

Noah waggled his eyebrows at Kurt as he headed for the door.

“Wait,” said Kurt. Noah paused and turned back as Kurt hurried over. He stopped a few feet away. “Um… what _would_ you rather I call you? Because in my head, you’re always Noah, and I don’t think I can change —“

“Kurt,” he said. “I _love_ it when you call me that.”

Noah stepped in to eliminate the last few feet between them, and kissed him again. They both sighed and leaned in together, holding each other up.

“Noah,” breathed Kurt. He felt Noah shiver.

“Yeah. Like that.”

It was easier to let him go with Noah’s name on his tongue, like maybe the next time he spoke of him, a little piece of Noah would be there, waiting to be said. Even so, he stood by the door and watched him carry his guitar to his truck, until Noah had disappeared from sight.

Carole’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Did you see Finn downstairs?”

“He was asleep on the couch. I turned off the television and left him there."

She nodded. “I’m sure he can tell you all about what happened with Michael when he wakes up, but… I don’t think it would be spoiling anything to say Michael came by to apologize for what happened at prom. I suspect, from the smiles on both their faces, that the outcome was a good one.”

“That’s good news. A happy ending, before Michael goes to college, at least.”

Carole gestured at the front door. “I have to say, it’s very good to see _that_ happening.”

“It’s not happening, exactly,” said Kurt. “Not quite. But I think it might be moving in that direction.”

“Kurt, I know happening, and that? That was definitely happening.” She smiled at his expression. “I’ve been rooting for the two of you, you know.”

“I do know. That’s really encouraging, considering you’ve known him even longer than I have.” He sighed, feeling all the memories of Noah on his skin. “I think what happening is that he’s building the person he wants to be from the pieces he has. I just need to wait a little longer until he’s more stable.”

She nodded. “And you think you’re willing to do that?”

“Yes,” said Kurt. There was no question about it. “He’s worth it.”

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and as Carole kissed his cheek and went back into the kitchen, he read the question on the screen: _You asked me at prom if this was a tragedy or a comedy._

 _Yes,_ he replied. _How do I know which one it is?_

 _It’s the end of the act,_ said Noah. _Are you smiling or not?_

 _Smiling,_ Kurt said.

_Yeah. Me too._

_ _

[ _http://tidido.com/a35184372198399_ ](http://tidido.com/a35184372198399)

_Seems like a happy ending_   
_Must be a happy ending_   
_Here is a happy ending  
This is as happy as it gets_

\- Electric Bonsai Band, “[Happy Endings (Romeo & Juliet)](http://www.yellowtailrecords.com/lyrics/lyr_belly.html#Romeo)”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music credits:
> 
> “Only Girl (in the World)” copyright 2010 by Rihanna.
> 
> “Love Story” copyright 2008 by Taylor Swift.
> 
> “Pretending” copyright 2011 by Adam Anders, Peer Astrom and Shelly Peiken.
> 
> “Light Up the World” copyright 2011 by Adam Anders, Max Martin, Peer Åström, Savan Kotecha, and Johan Schuster.
> 
> “Hold Tight” copyright 1994 by Modabo.


End file.
